AUTOBIOGRAPHY

INTELLECTUAL, MORAL,

AND SPIRITUAL.

With detailed Index added.

BY

REV. ASA MAHAN, D.D., LL.D.,

AUTHOR OF "OUT OF DARKNESS INTO LIGHT;" "THE BAPTISM OF THE HOLY GHOST;" "CHRISTIAN PERFECTION;" "MISUNDERSTOOD TEXTS," ETC.

These things "out of the spoils won in battles" have I dedicated "to maintain

the house of the Lord."

LONDON:

ORIGINALLY PUBLISHED FOR THE AUTHOR.

T. WOOLMER, 2, CASTLE STREET, CITY ROAD, E.C.

AND 66, PATERNOSTER ROW, E.C.

___

1882.

GRAND RAPIDS:

REPUBLISHED BY THE EDITOR.

RICK FRIEDRICH OF ALETHEA IN HEART MINISTRIES,

1350 PARKWAY DR. NE 303

GRAND RAPIDS, MI 49525 USA.

(616) 447-8124

TruthInHeart.com

——

MAY 2001.

Mahan, Asa, 1800-1889.

Autobiography: intellectual, moral, and spiritual.

(Religion and Philosophy in America)

Republication of the 1882 ed. Published by T. Woolmer,

London.

1. Mahan, Asa, 1800-1889. 2. Congregational churches—

Clergy—Biography. 3. Clergy—England—Biography.

First Alethea In Heart edition published in 2001.

Republished from the edition of 1882, London, without altering anything but format and page numbers. With English spelling. Detailed index added.

CONTENTS.

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CHAPTER PAGE

TABLE OF CONTENTS . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 4

FORWARD FROM THE EDITOR . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 5

INTRODUCTION BY THE AUTHOR . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 7

I. EARLY RELIGIOUS IMPRESSIONS . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 12

II. MY CONVICTION AND CONVERSION . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 37

III. EARLY STEPS HEAVENWARD . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 49

IV. PRIMAL SOUL-CULTURE, HOW ADVANCED, AND HOW HINDERED . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 60

V. GROWTH DESPITE ADVERSE INFLUENCES . . . . . . . . . . . . 73

VI. PROGRESS IN DOCTRINE: CHOICE OF SYSTEMS . . . . . . . . 82

VII. FADING OUT OF PRIMAL LIGHT, AND LOSS OF PRIMAL JOY AND POWER: BREAKS IN THE CLOUD: LIFE UTILITIES . . . . . 90

VIII. DISAPPOINTED HOPES: SEMINARY LIFE . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 101

IX. PASTORAL OFFICE AND LIFE . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 111

X. PROGRESS IN CHRISTIAN DOCTRINE . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 138

XI. THE GREAT WESTERN REVIVALS, 1824—I832 . . . . . . . . . . 150

XII. EXPERIENCE AND REFLECTIONS AS PRESIDENT OF COLLEGES . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 173

XIIL THE TWO PERIODS OF MY CHRISTIAN LIFE . . . . . . . . . . . 193

XIV. THE REASON FOR THE HOPE THAT IS IN ME . . . . . . . . . . 218

XV. NEEDFUL CORRECTIONS AND EXPLANATIONS, AND ANSWERS TO OBJECTIONS . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 247

XVI. TRUTH AND ERROR, AS THEY APPEAR IN THE LIGHT OF FACTS OF OBSERVATION AND EXPERIENCE . . . . . . . . . . . 266

APPENDIX

INDEX OF: SUBJECTS . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 309

PEOPLE . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 318

PUBLICATIONS . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 324

FORWARD.

FEW people in the 19th century have so incredibly laboured for God in so many pursuits, have painstakingly mastered the irreconcilable ends of Philosophy and Theology, or have patiently earned the right to compel the twenty-first century to sit at their feet, than Asa Mahan. There is no man on earth who would not be seriously enlightened—whether at fundamental odds with or not—by his keen insights into the nature of reality, the universe, and the Mind, on the one hand, or by his almost forceful encouragement of the infinite riches waiting for us through Jesus Christ on the other. Our words could not even replace his in order to give you a taste of the value you will understand them to be when you have meditated upon them even a short while. Indeed, we have found him to excel every other work on most subjects he felt the need to advance. Unsatisfied by vain searches to find sufficient textbooks on important subjects for the education of the future leaders of the nation, he was often hard-pressed by many of the greatest minds of his day to surrender in print his mind on such matters. It can be seen in the works themselves that there was no competition to have the most popular works on the subjects, but rather they reveal an intense love for truth and all beings associated with reality. They reveal such manly independence and enjoyable insights that we will all gladly learn not to believe what he says, but to sit attentively enough and hope to glean the secrets of how he mastered the arts of learning, persuasion, and contentment. We have found few authors in history who have so kept themselves from prejudice and overstatements, and who have not contented themselves with teaching upon a subject until they so considered it to the point where their opponents confess that they speak with authority, and the friends of the truth feel warmly secure.

We could site many examples of the godly influence Mahan had on America and the world, but we give only the following concerning slavery:

"After the close of the war of the rebellion, [Hon. Wendell Philips] delivered, in Adrian, a lecture, in which he laid down most true and noble principles in advance of the existing public sentiment. At the close, I went upon the platform and congratulated him upon his address, thanking him especially for the advanced principles which he had announced. His reply was in these words: 'I had rather receive such commendation from you, than from any other man in the world. We all know that you have done more for this cause than any of us.'"

Mahan does not strictly give us an autobiography in the usual sense of the term. His motives, like Finney's, were to glorify God by praising Him for the wonderful works He has accomplished through the hardest circumstances in his life; and to do so by revealing just how God rescued him 'out of darkness into Light' in the intellectual, moral, and spiritual departments of life. This is a most enjoyable book as it so exalts God and satisfies mankind that they also can find 'their complete sufficiency in God.' There are at least three major reasons why the church should greatly desire this work: 1. It reveals in great detail how a very talented and strict teacher of classic Calvinism—equal to Edwards—painstakingly was honestly forced to examine all his lifelong assumptions; and after years of consistently living out the same system, was forced to reconstruct his entire foundations for the honor of God in being finally freed to believe all that He said in His Word (under oath) of our 'salvation to the uttermost' through Jesus Christ; 2. It extensively reveals how many thousands came to live radiant holy and fruitful lives through the deeper work of the promised Spirit, and the reasons why the Church has lost this most important Gift of God; 3. Finally it contains so much insight into Pastoral theology, preparation, and ministry that it would give each church member and every minister desiring to feed God's lambs an extensively devotional textbook for the highest education in evangelism, missions, and spiritual leadership in the various offices of the Church.

One final word about a further purpose for the publication of this wonderful book. As there has been some doubt about the unity of doctrine between Mahan and Finney, (or even with Wesley), we give you the following quote, the work itself, and the subsequent complete works of both:

"IT is now quite forty-six years since, in connection with my late brother in Christ, Finney, I first presented to the public in printed form my views of the doctrine of Salvation to the Uttermost, together with my reasons for my belief in that doctrine. Simultaneously with my own presentation, and in full accordance with it, brother Finney presented his views upon the same subject, together with his reasons for holding them."

We trust that while you will take these same truths to your knees, that God will shine in your "hearts to give the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ"—and then so cause your light to shine as He did with them.

May 2001.

RICK FRIEDRICH

EDITOR OF THE WORKS OF ASA MAHAN &

THE WORKS OF CHARLES G. FINNEY

INTRODUCTION.

—:o:—

I AM this day, November 9th, 1881, eighty-two years of age. Sixty-five years of this period I have spent in the service of God. Eighteen years of my Christian experience and life were spent in the dim twilight of a semi-faith, which very clearly and distinctly apprehended Christ as the Lamb of God Who (judicially) "taketh away the sin of the world;" but knew almost nothing of Him as the Son of God, Who baptizeth "with the Holy Ghost," and "saveth to the uttermost them that come unto God by Him." During these years, my pilgrimage, for the most part, was with those "who fear the Lord, and obey the voice of His servant, and walk in darkness, and have no light." My spiritual heaven was comparatively obscure, because there was no open vision of the face of God, and because the Sun of Righteousness lay below the horizon around me; "the eyes of my understanding not being enlightened, that I might know what is the hope of His calling, and what the riches of the glory of His inheritance in the saints, and what is the exceeding greatness of His power to us-ward who believe." During this period my sky was never wholly dark, From the hour of my primal love and joy in God, I have never been "a backslider in heart," but my face has ever been heavenward. Not long after my conversion I attained, by long and fervent prayer, to that form of full assurance in which I could say most unhesitatingly, "I know that I love God, and have eternal life." This assurance of present acceptance, after a time, merged into "full assurance of hope," an assurance which has not, and never had, any connection with the belief that a soul, once converted, is absolutely certain of final salvation. At the time of my conversion, "the eyes of my understanding were enlightened" to know my past character and life as they were, even to "a discernment of the thoughts and intents of the heart." No one who has not been thus enlightened can form the remotest apprehension of the utter and absolute abhorrence with which that old and godless life was regarded by me at that time. The thought of perdition was not, in my distinct regard, so fearful as was the idea of a return to that old life. Hence it was that for a long period I made it the constant subject of specific and most earnest prayer, that God would keep me from apostasy, and also from being a backslider, even in heart. The result was, that I became possessed of a fixed inward assurance, into which no element of doubt entered, that I should have grace to "hold the beginning of my confidence steadfast unto the end." As far as the question of present acceptance and final salvation is concerned, I have, during these sixty-five years, "served God without fear;"—would that I could add, in regard to them all, "in righteousness and holiness before Him." During these years my face has fixedly been heavenward, and I have had no misgivings, when I have sung in respect to the world through which I was passing, "I'm a pilgrim, and I'm a stranger." To worldly ambitions, hopes, and treasures, I have ever said, when the question of duty and usefulness arose before me, "Do not detain me, for I am going where the waters are ever flowing." I now know, and during my Christian pilgrimage have known, what the apostle meant when he said, "I therefore so run, not as uncertainly; so fight I, not as one that beateth the air."

A life characterized by such assurances cannot, at any period, have been altogether a joyless one. "Knowing Whom I had believed, that He was able to keep that which I had committed to Him against that day," I was possessed of inward joys and consolations with which strangers never intermeddled; and which exceeded what was common, or even occasionally known, in the churches and ministry around me. He, however, Who had "loved me, and given Himself for me," and for Whom I was ever ready to "lay down my life," had left the world and gone to the Father. I had no apprehension of what my Saviour meant when He said, " I will not leave you orphans; I will come to you;" and, "If any man love Me, he will keep My word; and My Father will love him, and We will come unto him, and make Our abode with him." To my faith, Christ, and the Father too, were afar off, in heaven; and I was not only "a pilgrim stranger," but an orphan "here below;" a son indeed, but for the present an exile in an enemy's country. Hence my sky was never clear and bright, but everywhere covered with a grey cloud, through which the rays of the Sun of Righteousness dimly penetrated. Occasionally there would be, here and there, rifts in the cloud, through which I would obtain glimpses of the glory beyond, and thus have awakened within unutterable aspirations to possess the open beholdings and Divine fellowships of which the Bible says so much, and especially to understand, by experience, what our Saviour meant when He said, "I know Mine own, and am known of Mine, even as the Father knoweth Me, and I know the Father." Here, I said, is a form of knowledge which it must be bliss indeed to possess. On no subject did I, during the latter part particularly of those eighteen years, inquire so earnestly, or search so diligently, as in respect to the nature and secrets of that Divine life to which, as saints of God, we are called.

Forty-seven years ago, at a period when my way seemed most dark, and when my desire for the open vision referred to had become almost insupportably intense, in a moment, in the twinkling of an eye, "the eyes of my understanding were enlightened," the grey cloud above and around me disappeared, and I stood face to face with the Sun of Righteousness, feeling His Divine healings through every department of my being. During these forty-seven years, that Sun has not gone down, and one desire has possessed my entire being, and determined all my researches after truth, and all my activities, and that is, to "present every man perfect in Christ Jesus," and, as a means to this end, to make known to all "the unsearchable riches of Christ," and to "make all men see what is the exceeding greatness of His power to us-ward who believe," and "what is the riches of the glory of this mystery among the Gentiles; which is Christ in you, the hope of glory."

In another book, Out of Darkness into Light, I have given a somewhat detailed exposition of my varied religious experiences during the first sixty years of my religious life; and I do not intend in the present work to repeat, except so far as distinct elucidation requires, what is there written. The present work has been prepared on a plan far more extensive. During my religious life, I have had a very intimate association with the various religious, moral, social, and political questions and movements which have agitated and moulded thought in America and the world at large, and with many of the leading minds who gave form and direction to these great movements. As a student of theology and Biblical science, and of all the sciences, as a preacher of the everlasting Gospel, and as a Professor of Mental and Moral Philosophy and Theology, I have had occasion to ponder, and weigh, and determine, with great care and circumspection, the various problems of natural, mental, moral, and theological science, together with the doctrines of the diverse schools in philosophy and religion. As a theologian I have, as the result of the most careful and candid inquiry and research, passed from the extreme bounds of Calvinism to the quite opposite pole of the evangelical faith. In the sphere of religious experience I have, as has been shown in the early part of this Introduction, emerged from the dim twilight and servitude of a semi-faith, into the sphere of open vision, where God is our "everlasting light," and "the days of our mourning are ended."

Here, as the result of all my inquiries and diverse experiences, I find myself, on this my eighty-second birthday, in the full and blissful assurance of the Divine origin and authority of the Holy Scriptures of both Testaments, of the doctrine of the Sacred Trinity, of atonement by the blood of Christ, of regeneration, of justification and sanctification by faith, of the baptism of the Holy Ghost, of immortality, and "eternal judgment;" and holding all these and kindred truths in "the full assurance of faith," " full assurance of hope," and "full assurance of understanding," I have been urged by individuals in whose judgment I place great confidence, and who have had an intimate acquaintance with my habits of self-reflection, to write out, for the benefit of the Church and the world, my own intellectual, moral, and spiritual autobiography. After prayerful consideration I yielded to such advice. Hence the following treatise.

Before closing this Introduction, I would add that I have this absolute faith in the doctrine of a personal God, of inspiration, duty, sin, redemption, immortality, and retribution, not merely as a student of theology, but as a student of science also. If God is the common Author of the Bible and of the universe, it is self-evident that the real revelations of each must coincide perfectly with, and confirm, those of the other, and that where seeming contradictions appear, the fact must be owing wholly to the limited or false vision of the disciple of truth. It has been under the lead of these fixed and immutable convictions that all my inquiries in the spheres of natural, mental, moral, and theological science have been prosecuted. As the result of the most careful and rigid application of the known laws of scientific thought and inquiry, I am an absolute believer in the doctrine of a personal God as the common Author of creation and the Bible, and in the perfect unity and harmony of all the teachings of these two Divine volumes. My conviction in the actuality of such unity is not the result of a blind faith, but of open, distinct, and absolute vision. Some two or three years since, I held several extended conversations with a very intelligent graduate of Cambridge University, who admitted that in religion he was a sceptic, and who, at the special request of friends, sought these interviews. Near the close of our last interview, after admitting that he saw no possibility of avoiding my final deductions in science and religion, he thus addressed me: "Dr. Mahan, one fact in regard to you has surprised me. You evidently have a clear understanding of all the systems of philosophy that have ever been developed. Yet you are in perfect agreement with the faith of common evangelical believers around you." My reply was, that, with the intelligence that God had given me, I could not be the student of science I have been without arriving at the absolute convictions which I now entertain in regard to matter, spirit, time, space, God, the soul, duty, immortality, and retribution, and that I could not honestly hold and apply these principles without being perfectly at home in the sphere of Christian thought and life to which he referred. It is of the greatest importance that all friends, and especially all teachers, of truth should have full possession of that settled rest of spirit which has its basis not only in conscious moral purity and integrity, but in immutable and settled convictions resulting from open and absolute vision of Truth itself. A leading object of the following treatise is to disclose and render intelligible the processes of thought and deduction by which the author, as an inquirer, and for nearly thirty years a teacher of science, arrived at his present settled and peace-imparting convictions on the subjects under consideration.

INTELLECTUAL, MORAL, AND SPIRITUAL

AUTOBIOGRAPHY.

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CHAPTER I.

EARLY RELIGIOUS IMPRESSIONS.

IT was at the age of seventeen years and two or three months that I was born of God. The reader will better understand and appreciate the intellectual, moral, and spiritual life to which he is about to be introduced, if we go back to the period which immediately preceded the event above referred to, and consider the specific religious convictions and impressions to which I was then subject, together with the character of the causes of those convictions and impressions.

Early Education.

My education from my childhood up was, especially in a doctrinal sense, a religious one. The circle in which I was educated was exclusively Calvinistic of the" straitest sect" ever known. Always a regular attendant upon public worship on the Sabbath, I had never, up to the period of my life now under consideration, heard more than two or three discourses from any preacher who did not belong to this school. As soon as I was able to read at all, the first treatises put into my hands were the Assembly's Longer and Shorter Catechisms. The latter I was required to commit to memory, and to repeat to my mother from Sabbath to Sabbath, that is, very frequently, during the years of childhood. From the teachings of these catechisms and other forms of religious instruction, my views of Christian doctrine very early took a definite and systematic character. Being naturally endued with a reflective mind, and especially with a quenchless thirst for knowledge, and especially for the knowledge possessed by intelligent men and women around me, I was ever a most attentive and eager listener to their varied conversations, conversations especially which pertained to two subjects,—battles, and questions of Christian doctrine; and no child was more favoured than I was in gaining the best information of the latter kind. My mother was one of the greatest female thinkers and readers on religious topics that I ever knew. No minister in all the region of country where we lived was more fully acquainted with the writings of such thinkers as Edwards, Hopkins, Bellamy, and Emmons, than she. My father's house was consequently the centre for the discussion of Christian doctrine with the most intelligent members of the church to which he and my mother belonged. Western New York, where my parents lived from my twelfth to my seventeenth year, was, at that time, for the most part, missionary ground. Scattered in all directions were feeble churches without pastoral care. These churches were favoured from time to time with the temporary services of missionaries sent out for the most part from the State of Connecticut. Standing on one of the main roads and near the centre of the town, my father's house was the fixed stopping place of these missionaries. How my heart would leap when a stranger would ride up to my father's door, and announce himself a missionary from the State of Connecticut. "Now," I inwardly exclaimed, "we shall have more conversation about these doctrines;" and I was never disappointed. As soon as the proper time for conversation came, my mother, who was a woman of few words herself, would put some leading questions which would arouse to the highest degree the mental activity of the visitor, and insure a most animated discussion of some of the great doctrines. Not unfrequently more or less of the neighbours would come in and heighten the interest of the discussions. Sometimes two such strangers would call at the same time, and then the interest of the collisions of thought would reach its climax. To all such scenes there was sure to be one listener whose attention and interest never flagged. The church of which my parents were members, never, during the period under consideration, enjoyed public preaching except on alternate Sabbaths; on all other Sabbaths they had what were called "Reading Meetings," meetings in which two printed discourses were read aloud. The discourses selected represented what was then universally regarded as embodying the best thoughts of the best Calvinistic divines of the age, and in each discourse some phase of some one of the great doctrines was elucidated. Whenever any new volume was introduced, my mother was certain to borrow it and read its discourses through, and always aloud when I was present. I therefore usually heard all such discourses twice read, and listened with the strictest attention.

Even after I was eight or ten years of age I was much given to religious thought and reflection. I seriously question whether, after this period, I was for half an hour alone by myself without pondering more or less seriously some forms of religious thought. I refer to the above facts in order to evince that I must have been an inexpressibly stupid thinker had I not, under such influences, attained to very clear, distinct, and definite apprehensions of all the leading doctrines of the system of faith in which I was educated. That my apprehensions were not only clear and definite, but strictly correct, I argue from the two following considerations: 1. No one ever suggested to me the thought—not even my mother, who ever had an open view of all my religious thinking—no one ever hinted to me, that I had misapprehended at all any of those doctrines. 2. My subsequent theological reading and education never suggested to me the idea that I had, in any particular, misapprehended the nature of any of those doctrines. I have fundamentally changed my views of the accordance of those doctrines with the Word of God, but never in respect to what is their intrinsic nature and character.

Religious Convictions and Impressions induced by these Doctrines.

What now were the religious convictions and impressions induced in my mind by a most careful and impartial view of these doctrines? I use the term impartial because I never entertained the prejudices entertained against them by worldly minds around me. I accepted them as truths of God, which I could not change, and by objecting against which I could only injure myself. I recollect very well an argument presented in one of the discourses which I heard read; an argument which, for years, utterly silenced in my mind all objection against the doctrine that infinite criminality is set down to the account of every individual of the race on account of the one sin of Adam. The argument was this: Had Adam maintained his integrity, and had God, on account of the merits of his obedience, set down to the account of each individual of the race the desert of infinite good, no creature in earth or heaven would have objected. Why, then, should any one object to the fact, that on account of Adam's sin infinite demerit is set down to the account of every such individual? Years passed before an objection arose in my mind to this doctrine of imputation. Thus candidly and impartially did I contemplate all the doctrines under consideration. I speak, also, of the impressions arising from a consideration of these doctrines. I had other religious convictions and impressions induced in my mind by other facts and considerations; and to these I shall direct special attention hereafter. What we are now to consider is the convictions and impressions induced by an exclusive consideration of these doctrines themselves.

What, then, were these convictions and impressions? An utter and absolute exclusion, I answer, of all ideas of real duty, obligation, merit or demerit of good or ill, from the entire sphere of Christian truth, thought, and action. This, I affirm unqualifiedly, was the exact state induced in my mind by those years of careful study of those doctrines. That I was under condemnation to eternal death, on account of the one sin of Adam, which God had imputed to me, I entertained not the remotest doubt. Yet that I was, in any sense or form, morally responsible for that sin, that real desert of punishment did, or could, attach to me personally on account of it, or that I was in the remotest degree under obligation to repent of the same,—no such thought or sentiment ever approached my mind. The sin and its imputed penalty lay, in my thoughts and reflections, wholly outside the circle of personal responsibility or desert; as much so as did the Flood, and the crimes of the generations which preceded and occasioned that world catastrophe.

Equally absolute was my, conviction that through the fall of Adam, and by a Divinely established law of natural descent, my "whole nature was corrupted" and "disabled to all that is good;" that what is "commonly called original sin" was to me and all the race a dire reality, a reality on account of which an eternal doom hung over myself and all the race. Yet I intuitively imputed original sin to myself and to the race as a pure calamity, and never, in any sense, as a crime. I was familiar with the fact of hereditary diseases descending through parents to their children, through successive generations. The child in whom such disease appears, is always compassionated, and never regarded as really criminal, for being afflicted with such disease; and that even when it is known that the parent brought upon himself the disease by crime. So I intuitively regarded, "the corruption of our whole nature, which is commonly called original sin."

That I was a sinner, originally and actually so, I had no doubt, and fully believed my catechism, when it affirmed that "all sin, both original and actual, being a transgression of the Divine law, deserves God's wrath and curse, both in this world and that which is to come." The term deserves had no meaning in my regard but this, is doomed to receive. The term sin, as employed in theological and Christian discourse, represented nothing whatever for which I regarded myself as, in the remotest degree, responsible. When spoken to of particular outward actions as right or wrong, or as deserving of praise or blame, my conscience gave a ready response to the correctness of such imputations. But when sin was spoken of, sin which, I was then taught, consisted in inward natural corruption, or in positive states or acts necessarily resulting from "indwelling sin," all conviction of real responsibility for such corruption, states, or acts, wholly dropped out of my mind, or rather never became a matter of conviction at all.

The same held true of all the specific requirements of religion, such as repentance, faith, love, and religious service. I was well aware that these were immutable conditions of salvation; that without "repentance toward God, and faith toward our Lord Jesus Christ," I should be eternally lost. Yet the conviction that I ought to repent and believe never had place in my mind. I was fully aware that "I must be born again, or I could not see the kingdom of God." I had no more consciousness of any obligation to become a Christian, however, than I had to become an angel.

I saw nothing whatever in the character of God, as seen through these doctrines, let me add once more, nothing whatever which awakened in my mind for a moment the conviction, in any sense or form, that I ought to love Him. I knew that I was required to love Him, and must do it, or be lost eternally. As presented to my apprehensions, there was everything in God to inspire awe, fear, and dread, but nothing to attract and to love. All His thoughts, plans, purposes, works, and government had their beginning, middle, and end wholly within Himself. He loved His creatures, and valued their interests, as the potter delights in and values his clay, as something to which he can give mould and shape to meet his own personal ends. So, as I was taught, God, by His omnipotence, gives existence to creatures, determines their character, lives, and destiny, forms and moulds them as vessels of honour or dishonour in absolute subordination to one exclusive end, His own pleasure, or "glory," as it was called. With what awe, and dread, and freezing terror, and with no love drawings, did we hear such stanzas sung as the following!

"Keep silence, all created things,

And wait your Maker's nod.

My soul stands trembling while she sings

The honours of her God.

"Chain'd to His throne a volume lies,

With all the fates of men,

With every angel's form and size,

Drawn by the eternal pen.

"Not Gabriel asks the reason why,

Nor God the reason gives

Nor dares the favoured angel pry

Between the folded leaves."

Thus it was that, through the religious teachings which I received, and the doctrines which were continuously held before my mind, and so deeply pondered by me, all real sentiments of religious obligation, all real convictions of duty, and all real consciousness of moral desert, were utterly excluded from the sphere of Christian thought and reflection, in which my mind had its dwelling-place. Had I been possessed of no conscience or moral nature at all, there could not have been a more absolute exclusion from my mind and thoughts of all such sentiments and convictions.

These Convictions and Impressions the necessary logical Consequents of the Doctrines in which I had been instructed.

We will now advance to a consideration of these doctrines themselves, and inquire whether the convictions and impressions under consideration were or were not the necessary logical consequents of what is intrinsic in the doctrines through which these convictions and impressions were intuitively induced in my mind. To set the subject distinctly before the reader, permit me to invite special attention to the following fact. Some twenty-five or thirty years since, when in the city of New York, I learned that a relative of mine, the wife of a wealthy merchant in that city, was in a precarious state of health. I had known her from childhood, and for many reasons she was very dear to me. She, as was true of myself, had from childhood been educated under the exclusive influence of these doctrines. Regarding this as probably my last opportunity for conversation with my niece, 1 called for one exclusive purpose,—a serious conversation with her on the interests of her soul's eternity. When this subject was introduced, she frankly confessed to me that she was not a Christian. "The question of my salvation," she added, "in no sense or form lies with myself but wholly at the sovereign disposal of God. If I am not one of the elect, my doom is fixed and irreversible, and I can do nothing to change it. If I am one of the elect, the time of my conversion is immutably determined, and I can do nothing to hasten or put it off. When that time shall arrive, God will send His Spirit to renew my heart, and it will be absolutely impossible for me to resist Him, or prevent my conversion. I have nothing to do, and can do nothing in the matter." "My dear, precious niece," I exclaimed, "reasoning thus and acting thus you will lose your soul, as sure as you exist." This only convinced her that I was a teacher of error. I found her mind, as my own had been, a total blank, as far as any proper convictions of sin, or any religious sentiments of duty and moral desert, were concerned, and all through the exclusive influence of the doctrines in which she had been educated. Whether any change occurred in her experience prior to her death, which took place but a few months after my visit, I never learned. Was this utter extinguishment of such convictions and impressions the necessary logical consequence of the doctrines under consideration? This is the question before us.

In the forefront of all these doctrines stands that of the Divine Decrees, which is thus defined in the Assembly's Catechism "The decrees of God are His eternal purpose, according to the counsel of His own will, whereby, for His own glory, He foreordained whatsoever comes to pass." " God executes His decrees," it is added, "in the works of creation and providence." "God's works of providence," we further read, "are His most holy, wise, and powerful preserving and governing all His creatures, and all their actions." "The almighty power, unsearchable wisdom, and infinite goodness of God, so far manifest themselves in His providence," says the Confession of Faith, "that it (His providence) extendeth itself even to the first fall, and all actions of angels and of men and that not by a mere permission, but such as hath joined with it a most wise and powerful bounding and otherwise ordering and governing of them in a manifold dispensation to His own holy ends." Here we are taught that all events, including all the actions of all beings, were, from eternity, immutably predetermined by God Himself; and that in providence He employs His omnipotence to bring those absolutely predetermined events to pass. No events, then, thus predetermined can, by any possibility, fail to occur, and to occur just as predetermined, and no events not predetermined can by any possibility occur. The absolute and exclusive Determiner is God: the determined are all existences and events, the nature, mental states, and actions of all creatures included. Granting the facts as here stated—and they must be thus granted, if this doctrine is true—where, in the necessary judgment of the universal conscience and intelligence, must all moral responsibility, moral obligation, and moral desert, if they exist anywhere, be exclusively located? Must they be located with the absolute and exclusive Determiner, or with the absolutely determined? Holding that doctrine as true, my conscience and reason and intelligence intuitively denied of myself all personal obligation and moral desert. So, these being the only premises from which to judge, must the conscience and reason and intelligence of every rational being decide. We can no more conceive that obligation and moral desert lie exclusively with the absolutely determined, and not with the absolute and exclusive Determiner, than we can conceive of an event without a cause.

Next in order after the Divine decrees, we will consider the condition of the human race in consequence of the fall of Adam, as set forth in the system under consideration. The fall, we must bear in mind, was according to this system as absolutely fixed and predetermined by a Divine decree as any other event. Adam, by an irresistible overruling providence, was placed in a state of probation, in which, as a foreordained event, his fall could not but occur. What is the affirmed state of the race consequent on that fall? "The covenant," says the Catechism, "being made with Adam, not only for himself but for his posterity, all mankind, descending from him by ordinary generation, sinned in him, and fell with him in his first transgression." "The fall," we are further told, "brought mankind into a state of sin and misery." Again "The sinfulness of that estate whereinto man fell, consists in the guilt of Adam's first sin, the want of original righteousness, and the corruption of his whole nature, which is commonly called original sin, together with all actual transgressions, which proceed from it." Once more: "All mankind by the fall lost communion with God, are under His wrath and curse, and so made liable to all the miseries of this life, to death itself, and to the pains of hell for ever." In another connection, we were taught, that "all sin, both original and actual, being contrary to the law of God, deserves His wrath and curse, both in this world and that which is to come." Again: "The sinfulness of that estate wherein man fell consisteth in the guilt of Adam's first sin, the want of that righteousness wherein he was created, and the corruption of his nature, whereby he is utterly indisposed, disabled, made opposite to all that is spiritually good, and wholly inclined to all that is evil, and that continually." "Man by his fall hath lost all ability of will to any spiritual good."

For each of three distinct and separate reasons, infinite criminality is, according to the doctrine under consideration, set down to the account of each individual of the race, namely: I. For a single act of one individual, an act perpetrated thousands of years before a vast majority of them existed at all. 2. For the original possession of a fallen nature, in the origination of which they had no more agency direct or indirect than they had in the creation of the world; a fallen nature which God Himself originated through the laws of natural generation. 3. For actual transgressions which the fallen nature of which mankind thus became possessed, rendered it absolutely impossible for them not to commit. For these specific reasons I did regard myself as thus doomed. My reason and conscience, however, absolutely cleared me of all real criminality in the matter, so absolutely that the thought that I could be really criminal for the sin of Adam which was imputed to me, or for sin in any form, original or actual, never entered my mind. Why did my conscience and intellectual and moral nature thus intuitively judge? For the absolute reason, I answer, that that judgment is the necessary logical deduction from the doctrines themselves.

The pastor of a leading church in an American city, a church of which my own daughter was a member, after stating these doctrines just as I have done, added that while he fully believed in these doctrines, in the ill-desert of sin, and in the duty of repentance, it was absolutely impossible for him to conceive how the creature can be responsible for sin, or under obligation to repent of it. He could conceive of no such possibility, I answer, for the simple and exclusive reason, that the thing is an absolute impossibility. The intuition is not more absolute that a circle is not a square, than is the judgment that if those doctrines are true, obligation and moral desert are impossibilities.

State of Infants who die before they are capable of committing actual Sin.

Infants who die before they can possibly commit actual sin, die, according to the express teaching of the system under consideration, under the desert of "God's wrath and curse" to eternity, for two fundamental reasons; namely, the guilt of Adam's sin which is imputed to them; and "original sin," or "the want of original righteousness, and the corruption of their whole nature." According to my absolute intuitive apprehensions, while I regarded such desert as actually imputed to all such persons, there was, and could be, no real desert of such punishment, or of any punishment at all, in such cases. We have, in fact and form, the absolute verdict of human reason and conscience inside and outside the Church in respect to this particular case. And what is this verdict? The doctrine was once openly maintained, that infants dying in such state were of two classes, elect and non-elect; and that the latter, for the two specific reasons above designated, were actually doomed to eternal misery. The doctrine was so shocking to the reason and conscience and moral nature of universal mind, sanctified and unsanctified, that this doctrine of infant damnation has been frowned with indignation and reprobation out of the Church, and it is now confessed with shame that any such horror ever had place in Christian belief. What is the reason that this doctrine is universally held in such utter reprobation? The reason, and the only reason, is that according to the absolute intuition of the universal reason and conscience, no such desert, no desert of punishment of any kind, does or can attach to a moral being for the reasons assigned. If such desert for such reasons does exist, and is perceived to exist, there should be nothing morally shocking to any mind in the idea that such punishment is actually inflicted. The idea that any being receives what and no more than he actually deserves, shocks the reason and conscience of no moral agent. Either the intelligence and conscience and moral nature as God has constituted them are a lie, or no desert of eternal doom, or real desert of punishment in any form, does or can attach to infants, or to men now living, for that first sin of Adam or for any mere inherited constitutional temperaments.

Doctrine of Election, Reprobation, Regeneration, &c.

We will now consider the doctrines of election, reprobation, regeneration, and kindred doctrines, as set forth in the system under discussion. "By the decree of God," says the Confession of Faith, "for the manifestation of His glory, some men and angels are predestinated unto everlasting life, and others foreordained to everlasting death." "These angels and men, thus predestinated and foreordained, are particularly and unchangeably designed; and their number is so certain and definite that it cannot be either increased or diminished." "Effectual call is of God's free and special grace alone, not for anything at all foreseen in man; who is altogether passive therein, until, being quickened and renewed by the Holy Spirit, he is thereby enabled to answer the call, and to embrace the grace offered and conveyed therein." "Elect infants, dying in infancy, are regenerated and saved by Christ through the Spirit, Who worketh where and when and how He pleaseth." "All the elect, and they only, are effectually called."

As regeneration and effectual calling were affirmed to be the exclusive work of the Spirit, a change in which the creature is "wholly passive," I was accustomed to hear aged, intelligent, and experienced believers affirm that the Spirit could regenerate an individual when asleep as well as at any other time. And where can an error be found in such utterances, if the doctrine on which they are based is true?

Now, taking into account the doctrines of the Divine decrees, of the fall, of election, regeneration, and effectual calling, as actually set forth in the system under consideration, who will deny that the necessary logical consequent is the absolute validity of the conviction that rested upon my mind, that I was in reality under no more real obligation to become a Christian than I was to become an angel; that no more real desert of punishment did or could attach to me for the fall of Adam than for the fall of Satan; and that in no sense or form was I responsible, that is, deserving of punishment, for sin, whether original or actual? Can any one feel surprise that I deliberately regarded all charges of guilt on account of sin, and all affirmed obligations to repent of it and enter upon a holy life, as absurd mockeries? I distinctly recollect saying within myself, when our deacon charged such things upon us, "Now, Deacon B. is mocking us. He knows that what he is saying is not true."

The reader can now understand clearly the validity of my conviction, that the character of God, as presented in this system, wears one exclusive aspect,—infinite selfism, valuing His creatures but as the potter values his clay, as objects which, by His own power, He can form and dispose of for His own ends. For what exclusive end did God, as we are here taught, foreordain whatsoever comes to pass? For His own glory. Why did He elect a portion of our fallen race to eternal life? For His own glory. Why did He from eternity determine to pass by the non-elect, and leave them to perish in their sins? For His own glory. If we should become "followers of God" in conformity to such a revelation of His character, our selfism would be as absolute as His.

Different and opposite Schools of Calvinism.

At the period to which I now refer, Calvinists were divided into three schools; the division in the Presbyterian Church into Old School and New School not having then occurred. Of the three schools then existing the first held, in the strictest form, the doctrines above considered, as set forth in the catechisms, and its creed was commonly represented by the terms "limited atonement" and "inability; "the latter term having reference to its tenet that all men are, by original sin, disabled from all good acts.

The doctrine of the second school was denominated "Hopkinsianism; "the Rev. Samuel Hopkins, D.D., of Newport, Rd., in connection with President Edwards, being its principal expounder and advocate. This school agreed in all essential respects with the first-named, as far as the doctrine of the fall is concerned. In opposition to a limited, Hopkinsianism maintained a general atonement, affirming that provisions of grace in Christ are for the entire race, and are as free for the acceptance of the non-elect as for the elect. In opposition to the doctrine of absolute inability, this school affirmed that all men, the non-elect as well as the elect, have natural but not moral ability to accept the offer of life and obey the will of God. It was a common saying among believers of this school that, although their eternal doom is fixed by an eternal decree of God, the non-elect have natural power, by accepting the provisions of grace, to insure their salvation by breaking the Divine decrees. According to the teaching of this school, also, the common influences of the Spirit, those under which none are ever converted, are given to all men without exception. His special influences, on the other hand, those which always when vouchsafed result in conversion, God, in the exercise of His sovereignty, withholds from the non-elect and confers upon the elect. While the common influences of the Spirit never result in conversion, they do infinitely aggravate the criminality and doom of the non-elect. All men, the non-elect included, have natural ability to obey God, because nothing hinders their doing so, and assuring their own salvation, but their unwillingness. They lack moral power, because they have no power over their own choices; that is, they choose the evil and refuse the good, without the power of contrary choice. The distinction between this doctrine of natural ability and moral inability, and that of absolute inability as maintained by hyper-Calvinists, as they were then called, was found, when the two doctrines were clearly understood, to be in reality a distinction without a difference; the common doctrine of each school being that unregenerate men have no available power whatever to obey God. No school maintained the doctrine of eternal decrees and of unconditional election in a more absolute form than did that under consideration. In all His works and government God has, we were taught, but one exclusive end,—His own glory, the display of His perfections. To this end it is as necessary that some should eternally sin and suffer, as that others should be eternally holy and happy; and God from eternity elected His vessels of mercy and vessels of wrath according to His sovereign pleasure. By the founder and leading advocates of this school, it was most strongly maintained that such should be our regard for the sovereign will of our Maker, that "we should be willing to be damned for the glory of God." A bound volume of an old magazine in my library at home contains an article written by myself in defence of this doctrine. The doctrine of general atonement and natural ability, as maintained by this school, was hailed by multitudes of ministers and believers as a fundamental advance in the direction of rational Christian truth, and as rolling an incubus of infinite weight from Christian doctrine.

The doctrine of the third school, which was founded by the Rev. Nathaniel Emmons, D.D., was denominated "the Divine Efficiency Scheme." In all points in which the second school differed from the first, this last agreed with the former, and rejected the doctrines of the latter. In contradistinction from the teachings of each of the first two schools, this last denied and denounced the doctrines of the imputation of Adam's sin, and of all desert of punishment for "original sin," maintaining that men are and can be justly held responsible but for their own voluntary acts of obedience or disobedience to the revealed will of God. The peculiarity of the system was, that it maintained that in conformity with an eternal decree God, by the direct exertion of His own omnipotence, originates all human volitions and acts, the holy and the sinful in common. Thus God, by the direct and immediate exertion of His own omnipotence, moulds the character and determines the destiny of the elect and non-elect. Thus also, according to the bald teaching of this school, teaching which had among its open advocates not a few of the ablest thinkers in the United States, God holds all sinners as deserving, and actually inflicts upon the non-elect eternal doom, for acts which He, by the direct exertion of His own omnipotence, renders it absolutely impossible for them not to put forth.

Such were the doctrines of these three schools, which included all Calvinists at that time. The doctrine common to them all was that of Necessity, that all human activity cannot but be, in all respects, what it is. Now, while the doctrines of each of these schools were condemned by the united verdict of the universal intelligence outside of the schools themselves, as utterly subversive of all righteous legislation, human and Divine, of all obligation and moral desert of every kind, making God the only responsible Being, each of them denounced, in exactly the same forms, the doctrines of each of the others. "The idea that God," exclaimed the hyper-Calvinist and Hopkinsian, "by the direct action of His own omnipotence, originates all human volitions and acts, imputes infinite criminality to the Almighty, and renders Him the most fell tyrant conceivable." Just such language I often heard at that time, and no direct reply was ever made to the imputation. The following was the mode in which the advocate of Divine efficiency replied to the objections of the opposite schools. "You affirm that the doctrine that God imputes infinite criminality to sinners for acts of transgression which He, by the direct action of His own omnipotence, renders it impossible for them not to commit, dishonours Him. What then must we think of your doctrine, that God imputes to all men the desert of eternal doom for a sin which they never committed at all, and also for the possession of a depraved nature, in the origination of which they had no agency whatever, direct or indirect, but which God Himself, by the direct exertion of His own omnipotence, did originate through the laws of natural generation? If it would imply infinite wrong in God to impute infinite guilt to men for acts which He directly originates in them, and necessitates them to commit, would it not imply equal wrong for Him to hold them thus guilty for actual sins, which the fallen nature which He thus imparted to them renders it impossible for them not to commit?"

On a visit to Dr. Emmons, the Rev. Lyman Beecher, D.D., thus addressed his venerable friend: "You hold and teach, do you not, Dr. Emmons, that God, by the direct exertion of His own omnipotence, actually originates all sinful volitions and acts?" "I do thus hold and teach," was the reply. "Well, Dr. Emmons, there is, to my apprehension, something inexplicably mysterious about this matter, and I would earnestly request you to remove the difficulty. When God, by the direct exertion of almighty power, has originated an act of sin, He seems to be very indignant at what He has Himself created. He also manifests infinite surprise that the event should have occurred at all, and calls upon heaven and earth to unite with Him in astonishment and indignation that an act of obedience does not appear, instead of the sinful one, when He, by the direct exertion of His own omnipotence, renders the appearance of the former, and the non-appearance of the latter, an absolute impossibility. How do you explain such difficulties, Dr. Emmons?" The countenance of the great expounder of the doctrine of Divine efficiency instantly became a total blank. Putting his hand to his forehead, he remained for some time in deep thought, then dropped his hand, and looking in every direction with a bewildered stare, he remained silent. Dr. Beecher was too much of a Christian gentleman to embarrass his venerable friend with further questions, and the subject was dropped. When Dr. Emmons apprehended his own doctrine as it is in itself, the intuition became absolute in his own mind, that the absurdity of that doctrine was infinite. Now the doctrine of each of the schools under consideration does undeniably involve an absurdity as blank and palpable as this, and can by no possibility be so expounded as to be freed from such absurdity.

I have spoken of the utter exclusion from my mind, through the influence of these doctrines, of all proper conviction of sin as that which actually deserves "God's wrath and curse," and of all other kindred convictions. Now this was practically true, not only of worldly minds around me, but of believers also. Even the most devout Christians I knew, when they mentioned their sins, always spoke of them as evincing, not infinite criminality and ill-desert, but feebleness and dependence. They would make confession that all their "righteousnesses were as filthy rags," and that there was no soundness in them; that from their heads to the soles of their feet they were "full of wounds and bruises and putrefying sores," and then, with a placid smile, they would exclaim, "What poor dependent creatures we are!" They always compassionated, instead of really criminating themselves, when they spoke of their sins. Under a distinct apprehension of these systems, conviction of sin, in its only true and proper form, is an utter impossibility. Many who hold these systems have real conviction of sin, and that because their intuitions, enlightened by the Spirit of God, supersede the influence of doctrinal beliefs.

Illustrative Incident.

About forty-seven years since, when I was pastor of a Presbyterian Church in Cincinnati, Ohio, I was invited to attend a Protracted Meeting in the village of Oxford, the seat of a State University of that name. The pastor of the church where I preached, who was also my host, requested that I would have special religious conversation with a sister-in-law of his, then residing in his family. She was, as he stated, the principal of the ladies' academy in the place, of superior education, of a high order of talents, and most irreproachable morals, but utterly unapproachable on the subject of religion. "The principal motive which I had in securing your present services," he added, "was the hope that you might be instrumental in leading her out of that ice-bound, unapproachable state in which she has been for years." During my first religious conversation with that lady, she made this remark to me: "I see nothing whatever in the character of God, for which my conscience affirms to me that I ought to love Him." On my inquiring the origin and cause of such impressions, she stated that years previous, when a pupil at a female academy in New England, she boarded in the family of one of the most influential members of the church in the place. During a revival of religion in the academy she was the subject of very deep religious impressions. In conversation with the gentleman referred to, she was told that if she was not one of the elect, as she very probably was not, her present religious impressions could have but one result,—to render her more a vessel of wrath than she otherwise could become, and that the Spirit was very probably given her for this purpose. Subsequently to this she overheard this man inform some Christian friends that he had made these statements to her, and that he believed they were true. Accepting this as the correct view of her case, her heart at once seemed to be turned into a stone within her, and she had never since felt any disposition whatever to give thought to religious subjects. My prompt and earnest reply, as soon as she had finished her statements, was, "Miss you ought to be sent to perdition. God has given His Son and sent His Spirit to you for one expressly revealed and exclusive purpose, 'that you might not perish, but have everlasting life,' and has affirmed, under oath, that He has 'no pleasure in' your 'death;' that He entertains but one desire in respect to you, and that is your salvation. Yet, in the face of all this, and on the bold assertion of that most presumptuous man, you have for all these years entertained the horrid slander upon your Heavenly Father, that He was dealing with you, not to secure your salvation, but to insure your eternal doom, and render that doom as aggravated as possible. What excuse will you, can you, offer to your injured Father and God, should you appear before Him in this state, for having made yourself a vessel of wrath by entertaining such soul-ruining thoughts in regard to Him? Go to Him at once, and tell Him frankly and broken-heartedly how you have injured Him, and wronged your own soul, by such thoughts." Perceiving that the ice around the heart was broken, I left her for a short time to her own reflections. At our next interview, after presenting a full statement of "the truth, as it is in Jesus," I put the question directly to her, "Will you now admit that God loves you, desires to confer eternal life upon you, and will do it as soon as you turn to Him, and commend yourself to His grace and mercy?" "I will," was the prompt and earnest reply. On the evening following I preached from the text, "If any man sin, we have an Advocate with the Father, Jesus Christ the Righteous," and showed on what conditions Christ will act in our behalf in this relation, and what He will procure for us if we commit our case to Him. On our way from the meeting I said to our friend, "Miss —, shall Christ he your Advocate?" "If I do not accept of Him," was her prompt and earnest reply, "I ought to go to hell. I can plead guilty now. I have but one desire, and that is that Christ may possess and control my whole being." When I left the place she was one of the happiest converts I had ever seen. More than thirty years after that, I met that minister and inquired of him in respect to that sister-in-law. "She died a few months since," was the reply, "but such a life as she led, after your visit to Oxford, I do not know that I ever witnessed. We never saw in her the remotest indication of backsliding, and her Christian character was throughout wonderfully complete and symmetrical. She never shrank from duty in any form, and never appeared to think that she could do enough for Christ. So her life brightened on to the close. And it did seem as if 'heaven had come down to greet,' as we stood about her dying bed."

Here we have God's truth, as often perverted and misrepresented in the schools, on the one hand, and as revealed in His Divine Word, on the other. Here, too, we have the distinct and opposite results. What that man said to that inquirer was a veritable exposition of the doctrine which he held, and the effect upon her mind was the legitimate outcome of that doctrine. When I had been for several weeks in great anguish of mind on account of my religious condition and prospects, our deacon, who was de facto the pastor of our church, fully aware of my state of mind, thus addressed us: "My impenitent friends, bear this in mind, that if any of you were not from eternity elected unto eternal life, your salvation is impossible." When I afterwards spoke to another leading professor upon the subject, his reply was, "I ought to say to you that the statements of Deacon B—— were undoubtedly correct." That my soul was not wrecked for eternity was owing wholly to the mercy and grace of God in counteracting the natural effects of fundamental error. The reason why such teachings were presented to persons "under concern of mind," was the belief then commonly entertained, that in revivals, of all other times, "the doctrines should be fully preached." In after years such teachings were withheld until the revivals had passed by.

Origin and Character of Early Religious Impressions

which led to my Conversion.

My early religious convictions and impressions were, for very many years after my conversion, a mystery to me; and it was only after long and very mature reflection that I came to fully comprehend their nature and causes. At first thought it would seem likely that systems of doctrine, the belief of which utterly extinguishes and excludes from the mind all proper convictions of real obligation to obey the law of duty and the will of God, of the real ill-desert of sin, and of responsibility to comply with the revealed conditions of eternal life, would as utterly exclude all religious impressions of every kind. In my own case, for example, there was this utter exclusion of proper religious conviction, on the one hand, and the very frequent presence of very deep religious impressions of another kind, on the other. The real cause of the absence of religious convictions of the kind under consideration has already been explained. The origin, and causes, and character of the impressions referred to admit of an equally ready explanation.

Let us suppose that the entire race has inherited from our first parents a disease, which can by no possibility be removed or modified by human remedies, and which, left to its own course, would, within a limited period, result in death. We have, at the same time, a revelation from God that He has from eternity determined and made provisions to remove this disease from a certain fixed number of the race, His elect, the number of whom cannot be increased or diminished, and at a certain predetermined period to carry them through a certain crisis, from which they will by Divine power pass into a state of permanent health and happiness. The other portion of the race, " persons not elected," God has immutably determined to pass by, and leave under the power of this disease, through which, at the crisis when the elect surmount it and live, if not before, the non-elect die and return to dust. Under such circumstances, while none could or ought to feel any responsibility for their state or destiny, the question, "Do I belong to the number of the elect, or non-elect, the number who are to survive and live, or to die and return to dust?" might be to each a subject of the deepest concern; and when the determining crisis should come, all might, each in his turn, experience not only great physical but mental agony.

Now, when my mind awoke to a consciousness of myself and the realities around me, I found myself; according to what was taught me, actually under sentence to eternal doom for the act of an ancestor—an act committed near six thousand years before my being commenced—and for a fallen nature derived from that ancestor, a nature in the origin and character of which I had had no more agency than I had had in that first sin. I found myself, also, in consequence of this inherited nature, utterly disabled to all that is good, and with no power to avoid actual transgressions for which infinite retributions were to be inflicted upon me, unless I should be rescued by an Almighty Power above and beyond myself. Here I was met by an affirmed revelation that I belonged to one of two classes, the elect or non-elect, the number of neither of whom could, by any possibility, be either increased or diminished; and my place and destiny, as a member of one or the other of these classes, was fixed immutably from eternity. Finally, somewhere in the unrevealed future of life, if I did not die earlier, I should pass through a crisis called "concern of mind," as the result of which it would be known what destiny was, from eternity, written out for me, and "drawn by the eternal pen" in that dread volume that "lies chained to the eternal throne." All this was real to me, an object of unquestioned belief.

Now, while such convictions of my state and destiny did, as would have been true, in the case above supposed, of necessity, exclude all consciousness of personal responsibility and desert from the sphere of religious thought, the question of my relations to these supposed eternal verities, and of my destiny in connection with the same, did press, and that very often, with awful and crushing weight upon my sensibilities. How often did the question arise, "When will the crisis in my being come? and shall I pass through it to eternal doom, or into the light of eternal day?" Then, as my mind would wander off into the great hereafter, how often would the thought roll back upon me, with overpowering weight," What is my decreed destiny there?"

"Where shall I find my dwelling-place?

Shall I my everlasting days

With fiends or angels spend?"

These infinite and eternal verities were none the less real to my mind because wholly disconnected with the ideas of moral obligation and moral desert. Hence it is that revivals of religion, periods of general religious seriousness, not unfrequently occur under ministrations, the leading doctrinal teachings of which tend but in one direction, to prevent and extinguish all proper religious convictions. Such preachers as Edwards, the Tenants, and Mr. Nettleton, were high Calvinists, but men of great revival power. Under the discourses of Edwards, for example, on such themes as, "sinners in the hands of an angry God," and, "Their feet shall slide in due time," very many of his impenitent hearers would wail aloud, and others fall helpless upon the floor. Thus aroused, they would seek and find peace in Christ. Such explanations will prepare the way for a presentation of the

Early Religious Impressions which led to my Conversion.

A fact which gave those aspects of religious truth which were adapted to move my sensibilities the greatest power, was my absolute conviction that all these doctrines, the most awful and impressive among them especially, were unquestionable verities. In my childhood, I had an overshadowing veneration for manhood. It appeared to me impossible that beings who knew so much could err in judgment, or could deceive. No one can conceive the shock which I received when, in growing years, the reality opened upon my mind that men and women could lie. Hence I repeated my Catechism, and listened to religious teaching at home and on the Sabbath, with an absolute and unquestioning assurance that I was hearing nothing but eternal truth.

As soon as the idea of dying entered my mind, I had an inconceivable dread and horror of death. Wherever I was, the thought of dying, and being buried in that deep, narrow place, was seldom absent from my mind. Often, when alone, I would cry aloud for horror at the thought of death, the coffin, and the grave. In connection with such reflections, thoughts of the eternal verities that lie in the great hereafter would throw their awe-inspiring shadows over my spirits. Between my ninth and thirteenth years three events occurred, in each of which I escaped death as by a miracle. In the first instance, when wholly unable to swim, and with no one present able at all to help me, I found myself, by a momentary accident, in water far over my head. By singular presence of mind, I moved under the water toward the shore, until, in a most exhausted state, my head rose above the surface, and I was safe. Had I moved in any direction but the one I did, death would have been inevitable. The other two escapes, which were as remarkable and providential as that, I need not detail. These events brought eternity, as never before, to my apprehension. How often would I start back at the thought which would suddenly come over me that I had three times hung as by a thread over the bottomless pit, and that, had I lost my life on either occasion, eternal damnation would have been my portion! An event which made a very deep and lasting impression on my mind occurred when I was about fourteen years of age. It was the sickness and death of a school and play mate, who was very dear to me. I was one of four lads who were selected to bear that silent body, so tenderly dear to us all, into the graveyard, and set it down by the side of its low and narrow house. With what deep and impressive interest did the question often come home to my mind, "Where has the spirit gone? And what if mine, instead of his, had been called for?" As one and another dropped around me, now an aged neighbour, then a strong man or woman in middle life, then a child, and then a youth, or one just merging into manhood, how narrow the space came to appear between myself and "the undiscovered country!" I sometimes seemed to myself to be walking on a narrow path with my grave open on each side of me.

But the influences which, more than all others, gave form and depth to my early religious impressions were what passed daily before me in the domestic circle. Very much of the religious conversation which I heard there was of an experimental character, and proceeded from the most spiritual believers in all the region round. In listening to such converse I, from time to time, got impressive insights into the interior of the Christian life. I thus became deeply impressed with the essential difference between the worldly and the Christian life, and with the opposite adaptations of each, as the soul, in one or the other state, should enter eternity.

But what most impressed my mind was what I saw in the daily life of my mother. She was, in public regard, one of the best housekeepers known. In the morning, after the family had partaken of the meal prepared, and everything about the house was put in the most perfect order, she would take down her Bible and seat herself in her rocking-chair. How still and solemn and peaceful everything about her then appeared! No one broke the silence at such periods. After a few moments of deep thought, she would read to herself—she never read aloud then—a portion of that blessed Book which she loved so much. Then, after another season of deep and silent meditation, she would retire to some secret place for a season of prayer to God. I often listened, unknown to her, to her words, as she would open her heart to her Maker and Saviour. How often would the thought force itself in upon my mind, "O that I were possessed of the spirit that dwells in the heart of my mother!"

Among the books which, next to her Bible, my mother loved to read, were the memoirs of the holiest men and women known in the circle of her religious faith, such as, for example, those of President and Mrs. Edwards, of the Tenants, David Brainerd, Miss Susanna Anthony, Mrs. Sarah Osborne, and Mrs. Isabella Graham. These books she commonly read aloud in my hearing, and for my benefit specially, and particularly the most impressive incidents. I have not looked into one of these books for more than half a century, yet the incidents referred to are to this day as distinctly before my mind as when I first heard them read. I refer to the wonderful manifestations of the Divine glory and love to President and Mrs. Edwards and David Brainerd. Full of interest, too, were the lives of Miss Anthony and Mrs. Osborne. In a weekly female prayer-meeting established by these holy women, and which had continued without the interruption of a single week through thirty years or more, Miss Anthony, for example, would sometimes be so borne upward in prayer for a world in sin, that she would continue on her knees for the space of one or two hours, and no one bowing with her would suspect that her prayer had been long continued. In view of "the spirit of grace and of supplications" poured out upon these women and others, President Edwards expressed the fixed belief that a period was near when revivals of religion would occur such as the world had not witnessed in ages past. Such facts made a very deep impression on my mind. Mrs. Osborne lived in widowhood to a great age, she and a granddaughter occupying a small cottage in a state of utter poverty and dependence upon the voluntary benefactions of the church and community around her. Yet she never begged a favour of any human being, and never, in a single instance, lacked her daily bread, and a full supply of it. Not unfrequently would she rise in the morning with not a particle of food in her house. "Put on the tea-kettle, daughter," the aged saint would say: "as soon as it is ready, what we need will be here;" and some one, under a Divine impression, always did come in with the very things that were wanted. In times of need, she always told her Father the facts just as they were, and never failed to obtain what she asked. When my mother would read such facts to me, and would then turn to her Bible and read such passages as, "The Lord is my Shepherd, I shall not want," how safe the people of God appeared to me under the guardianship of their Divine Shepherd, and how agonising the desire which would spring up in my mind to become a member of that sacred flock! Then the triumph and peace of those saints in the hour of death. What a parting scene was that between Mrs. Graham and her daughter at the death of the latter, which seemed to be an almost visible transfiguration! As the glorified spirit took its flight, the mother, lifting her hands, exclaimed, "I wish you much joy, my darling."

How oft and how solemnly did I repeat that ancient utterance, "Let me die the death of the righteous, and let my last end be like his!" I never spoke in ridicule of Christians, as impenitent persons around me often did. At one time, for example, I was present when two half-brothers and several young men, all much older than myself; were disporting themselves at the expense of religion and the members of the church. I rebuked very strongly their impiety, closing with these words: "I wish that we were as well off as Christians are." All such considerations and impressions only made more visible and awful to me the "great gulph fixed" between myself and the world, on the one hand, and the people of God, on the other. Often did I express the inward wish that I had lived in the time of our Saviour, or that He were now on earth as He was eighteen hundred years ago. "Were He now here," I said, "I should know what to do. I would go right to Him, give myself wholly to His control, and trust Him to make me what He desired me to be, and He would do it." But now, what could I do, but wait for "the effectual call," were it eternally decreed for me?

When I was about sixteen years of age, an event occurred which made an enduring impression upon my mind. I had occasion to take a quantity of grain to a mill about eight miles from home, the mill near my father's residence being stopped for repairs. While waiting for my grist, I noticed an individual with a black face, in company with a young lad, at work in a pasture near by. Having nothing else to do, I went over into the lot where they were. The supposed coloured man I found to be a white youth about two years older than myself; he having blackened his face in sport. I had been in his presence but a few moments, when I found him to be one of the most shocking blasphemers I ever met with. The chief direction of all his thoughts appeared to be to combine the most horrid oaths possible. With a kind of shuddering terror I soon left him, and returned to the mill. The miller then told me that that was the most recklessly depraved and wicked youth he had ever known. Some time before he had run away from home, had but just returned, and seemed to have but one ambition, and that was to show the community how depraved and wicked so young a person could become. About two weeks subsequently to this, I had occasion to go to that mill again. I then learned that that youth, to all appearance, was on his death-bed in his father's house a few rods distant. He had just before attended the town election at the village two miles distant, and there made himself a spectacle of terror, for reckless depravity, to all present. On his return home he was suddenly stricken down with a deadly fever. Not obtaining my grist that day, I returned for it two days after, and then and there witnessed a death scene, the memory of which never escaped me, a scene exceeding in horror anything I had ever before conceived. Like his life, the death of that youth seemed characterised by a raving madness. His aged grandfather endeavoured to speak to the dying youth about his soul. "Begone, begone, and let me alone," was the only response that could be obtained. And such wailing! After death had closed the scene, the miller, a man of God, as he returned with me to the mill, remarked that not a shadow of hope of a change for the better did that youth leave behind him. I went home from that scene a more serious, if not a better, youth. I was not, in any sense, profane or immoral, like that youth; yet, like him, I was, as I well knew, in the accepted sense of the term, a sinner under condemnation to eternal death. No one who has not had similar experience, can conceive the fearful terror often awakened in my mind at the thought of dying in sin. Such impressions were deepened by a remark which a neighbour—the profanest man I ever knew—made about that time to the deacon of our church. The latter had occasion, one hot summer's day, to call upon this man. Finding him hoeing corn, and perceiving that the row he was on terminated at the road where the deacon was standing, the latter waited until the man came up. Having finished his row, the poor man threw down his hoe, and wiping the dripping perspiration from his face, exclaimed, "Deacon Branch, is not this hard—to be obliged to toil like a slave all one's life, and go to hell at last? Tell me, is not this hard?" "Yes," the thought often passed through my mind, "to go to hell at last, that is the end of a life of sin ! Will my life thus terminate?"

About this time reports of revivals of religion of wonderful power in various parts of the country reached us, particularly in the eastern States under Mr. Nettleton and others; and the impression came over me that I should soon be in the midst of such an ingathering. I then began to hear the words repeated, "The one shall be taken, and the other left." With what impressiveness did the question often present itself, "Shall I be among the happy number that shall be taken, or among the non-elect who shall be left to die in their sins? "

Such were the religious impressions to which I was subject prior to my conversion, and which were preparatory to that event; impressions which became deeper, and more and more frequent, as I grew in years. And what was the result upon my life and character? This is a very important inquiry. Many would naturally infer, that I was "not far from the kingdom of God." Instead of this, aside from the fact that I was chargeable with no form of immorality, vice, or crime, I sincerely doubt whether there was, in all the world, a more godless youth than I was. After I had ceased to offer the Lord's Prayer at my mother's knee, I had never uttered a word or sentence in prayer to God. I had never, even in thought, thanked Him for a blessing received, or confessed or asked forgiveness for a single sin, or sought a favour at the hands of my Maker. I had never raised the question, even in thought, as to whether what I did, or neglected to do, was pleasing or displeasing to Him, or made the thought of pleasing or displeasing Him a motive for any act I had put forth, or refrained from putting forth. Nor had I ever raised the inquiry, "What shall I do to be saved?" or exercised a thought or put forth an act relatively to that end, or made the deep religious impressions to which I was so often subject a motive for any such thought or act. Nor did the conviction ever, for a moment, have place in my mind, that my interior or outer life ought, in any respect, to be, or to have been, different from what it was. No religious impression to which I was subject ever induced in my mind anything approaching the conviction of duty, obligation, or moral desert. My conscience, as far as any such convictions are concerned, was, as I have before said, as dead within me as if it had not existed at all. A thick and impenetrable veil was ever before my mind, rendering the entrance of such convictions impossible. How, it may be asked, was such a life possible? If we should recur to the religious teachings with which my mind was saturated during all those years, the question is answered at once. According to what is absolutely affirmed in the Confession of Faith and the Catechisms, and what I absolutely believed, the following immutable facts were true of me in my unregenerate state; I having had no choice or agency whatever in inducing the state under consideration. I. It was utterly impossible for me to will or to do anything right or good, and not to will and do what is sinful, or to will or do anything to procure any Divine influence enabling me to refuse the evil and choose the good. 2. It was absolutely impossible for me to accept the offers of grace in the Gospel, until after I was "quickened and renewed by the Holy Ghost," a change in which I was "altogether passive." 3. The number of those who were to be thus "effectually called," was from eternity so fixed and predetermined that it could by no possibility be "either increased or diminished." Granting all this to be true, why should I attempt to will or do the good, or not to will or do the evil, when the attempt itself would be nothing but sin? Why should I pray, when the service itself would be in the sight of God nothing but an abomination? How could the conviction have place in my conscience, that I ought to perform a revealed and recognised impossibility? Granting these doctrines to be true, we can no more conceive that unregenerate man, until God, in the exercise of His sovereignty, has made him the subject of "effectual calling," can be under any obligation to become holy, than we can conceive of the annihilation of space, or of an event without a cause.

CHAPTER II.

MY CONVICTION AND CONVERSION.

THE month in which I became seventeen years of age, I received the appointment to teach the winter school in a district in an adjacent town, my schoolhouse being just four miles from my father's residence. The district was composed almost entirely of Christian families who had emigrated from the eastern States, and nearly all of whom belonged to the same denomination as my parents. When I had been in my school a sufficient time to see it in successful operation, with the fairest prospect of a reputable termination of this my first public effort of any kind, I said to myself distinctly, and in so many words, "I have no desire, either for this world or the next, to be more completely happy than I now am." From my earliest recollection the cherished object of my being had been a liberal education, and the subsequent occupancy of the sphere of an educated man. To give me such an education my parents were wholly unable. All I asked or desired was the privilege of working out for myself the end so supremely valued; and I had left home with the understanding that after my father had received this one winter's wages, I might go for myself. A clearer and brighter sky never, I believe, opened before the imagination of any youth than that which now rose over my future career. But this brightness was not of long continuance. Thoughts of an eternal future began to drop one after another into my mind and that with a force and impressiveness never before experienced. As a consequence my Bible was read with greater frequency and interest than formerly. At a single sitting one evening I read through the entire book of Revelation. No definite impression was made upon my mind by such reading. A more habitual thoughtfulness was induced, however, and a more sombre hue was imparted to the atmosphere above and around me. Reports of revivals of religion became at this time more frequent than ever before, and these, more than any other causes, deepened my serious impressions. At a conference meeting in the district one evening, a long letter was read giving an account of a revival of great power in the place from which several of the families present had emigrated. The impression upon my mind amounted to agony. As there was no movement at the time among the people around, such impressions passed away, deepening, however, the general thoughtfulness of my mind. One cause of the unusual impressions to which I was subject at this time was, as I afterwards learned, what was passing between the spirit of my mother and God at my home. Immediately on my leaving, the question of my eternal interests seemed to occupy all her thoughts. Whenever she approached the throne of grace, this was the great object of her petitions, the almost insupportable burden of her prayers. I was her only son, and, with the exception of a young sister, her only child then living. What an infinite blessing is a praying mother!

Immediately after commencing my school, I formed an intimate acquaintance with a young man in the place, much older than myself, who was the son of the leading deacon of the church, and led the young people in all amusements and worldly conversation. While his influence over me was very fascinating, it was far from healthful, as he often made, not only Christians, but religion itself, a subject of jesting. In a short time, however, he had occasion to be absent from home for several weeks. On his return I immediately called upon him, and was strangely impressed with a mysterious change in his appearance. Instead of the jocular reception which I expected, he barely shook hands with me, and appeared almost incapable of entering into conversation of any kind. I left him at once, wondering what had occurred. On returning home on Saturday afternoon, my mother at once put the inquiry to me: "Is young Mr. Walker under concern of mind? I have heard," she remarked, "that it is so." I replied that I had heard nothing upon the subject; that I had seen him but once since his return, and that his appearance was such as to indicate that what she had heard might be true. The next day I made an excuse and stayed at home from the meetings, spending my time in study, which I had already begun, with reference to a liberal education. On the return of the family, at the close of the afternoon service, I put away my books and retired to my room. As soon as my mother entered the house, and without waiting to lay aside any of her outer garments, she came to me and said, "Young Mr. Walker is under very deep concern of mind. He came up with a company of young people and spoke in the conference meeting in our schoolhouse last week, avowed his determination to lead a new life hereafter, and exhorted all, the youth present especially, to follow his example." The effect upon my mind was indescribable. The impression came over me with overpowering weight that I was actually in the midst of a revival of religion, and that I should soon know whether I was among the number who were "predestinated unto everlasting life," or among the doomed class who were "foreordained to everlasting death." I returned to my school in an agony of apprehension which rendered it very difficult for me to get through the services of the day. At the close, after my scholars had retired and I was left alone, I found my anguish so excruciating that I cried aloud, "O that I could weep!" But the fountain of tears was utterly dry. Under a despairing impression that I should do what I had never before even attempted to do, that is, to pray, I at length got upon my knees in the presence of my Maker, but I found myself wholly unable to give expression to a single word or syllable, the fountain of utterance, as well as of tears, having entirely dried up. As I arose from my knees after a considerable period, a strange revulsion occurred in my feelings. With a desperate determination I said to myself, "I will have no more to do with this subject."

In this state of mind, I retired to my lodgings. In the course of the evening, having listened to a religious conversation between my friend Walker and a company of young people, all my former impressions returned with accumulated force. I now resolved never again to resist religious impressions, but to do all that was possible on my part to render "my calling and election sure." The next evening, by special invitation, I, with a brother of his, had a long interview with my friend Walker. He gave us an account of a very powerful revival of religion in the place where he had been, of his own religious impressions, and of the new and blessed life upon which he had entered. After an earnest exhortation to us to seek the great salvation which he had attained, he commended himself and us to God in prayer. As we rose from our knees, he turned to me, reminded me of our special friendship for each other, exhorted me to follow his footsteps in the way of life and peace, and expressed the earnest hope and desire that hereafter our faces should not be set in opposite directions. "Friend Walker," I replied, "will you not continue to pray for me?

From that moment, I had no wish or desire to conceal from any being in existence the fact that I was a serious and earnest inquirer after the salvation of my soul. I immediately sought interviews with the most intelligent and devout believers in the community, and desired them to tell me their experience from the time when they became subject to such impressions, up to the period of their "effectual calling," and especially what immediately preceded, accompanied, and followed that great change. To no one—with a seeming exception to be stated hereafter—did I put the inquiry at all, "What must I do to be saved?" the definite doctrinal views of all concerned rendering such an inquiry an absurdity. From the moment when I fully determined to give my whole being up to this one subject, the conviction became absolute in my mind, that as this one visitation should terminate, such would inevitably be my life and my eternal future. The object of all my inquiries was to determine, as well as I might, what would be the issue of this turning crisis of my existence, whether I was likely to be the subject of "the effectual call;" and if so, how near I probably was to it, and how I might know that it had occurred, should it occur at all. The exclusive burden of thought and inquiry with me was, not what I should do, but what God, in the fulfilment of an eternal decree, would do in my case. Nor did any individual intimate to me that my inquiries were wrongly directed, neither was anything said, during that revival, to induce any one to imagine that the question of his soul's eternity rested upon his own free choice of life or death. Instead of being told to "look to Jesus," I was told, as already stated, that if I was not one of the elect, my salvation was impossible. The only practical counsels we did receive were such as these: "Avoid vain company and worldly conversation and reading," "Do not resist, or try to banish, your religious impressions," "Cherish your convictions," "If you can do nothing else, this you can do, put yourselves in the way of saving influences." How wonderful is the influence of false doctrine in veiling from the thought and heart the plainest and most express teachings of the Word of God; teachings which everywhere lift their Divinely illumined summits heaven-high amid the great revelations around them! What are these teachings? We turn to the Old Testament, and there read, "See, I have set before thee this day life and good, death and evil." "I call heaven and earth to record this day against you, that I have set before you life and death, blessing and cursing: therefore choose life, that both thou and thy seed may live." "This commandment which I command thee this day, it is not hidden from thee, neither is it far off." "The word is very nigh thee, in thy mouth, and in thy heart, that thou mayest do it." See Rom. x. 6—9. "Look unto Me, and be ye saved, all the ends of the earth." "Ho, every one that thirsteth, come ye to the waters." "Let the wicked forsake his way, and the unrighteous man his thoughts, and let him return unto the Lord, and He will have mercy upon him; and to our God, for He will abundantly pardon."

As we stand before the open gate into the New Testament, the first object that opens upon our vision is "the Lamb of God Who taketh away the sin of the world," our "Advocate with the Father, Jesus Christ the Righteous," Who "is the propitiation for our sins" (the sins of believers): "and not for ours only, but also for the sins of the whole world." Hence His early testimony in regard to Himself: "As Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, even so must the Son of Man be lifted up: that whosoever believeth in Him might not perish, but have eternal life." Here we are absolutely taught that salvation is just as free and possible to every sinner, as was healing to those dying Israelites, after the serpent was lifted up in their presence. As soon as that all-healing power was manifested, the universal cry of the people around was, "Look to the brazen serpent, look to the brazen serpent." So the united cry of all believers to dying sinners should be, "Look to Jesus, and receive eternal life through Him." And all doctrines and religious teachings which do not represent salvation through Christ as thus free and universally available, veil Christ from "the world of sinners lost." "Come unto Me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest." "If any man thirst, let him come unto Me, and drink." "And the Spirit and the bride say, Come. And let him that heareth say, Come. And let him that is athirst come. And whosoever will, let him take the water of life freely." Such is Christ's Gospel, as preached by Himself. When convicted souls at the Pentecost said unto Peter and the rest of the apostles, "Men and brethren what shall we do?" the answer was ready and specific: "Repent, and be baptised every one of you in the name of Jesus Christ for the remission of sins, and ye shall receive the gift of the Holy Ghost." It took those despairing souls thus instructed but a few moments to step out of the kingdom of Satan into the kingdom of God. When the trembling jailor, prostrate before Paul and Silas, cried out, "Sirs, what must I do to be saved?" these inspired men of God did not talk to him about "eternal and unconditional election," but answered his question directly: "Believe in the Lord Jesus Christ, and thou shalt be saved, and thy house." As the result of speaking the word of the Lord to him, and to all that were in his house, they were all before morning joyfully baptised believers in Jesus.

Instead of being thus led directly to Christ, how often is the inquirer utterly bewildered and left for long periods, it may be, to wander on in the deep gloom of despair, through doctrines and teachings which involve "the glorious Gospel of the blessed God" in deep eclipse! I know, for example, a Scotch lady of great intelligence, who, while under the pastorate of a widely known preacher of the Scotch Church, and encircled with the leading lights of the same, wandered on for fifteen years in blank despair, all the while brooding over the question whether she was or was not one of the elect. From none of these teachers, to all of whom she again and again made known her case, could she obtain a ray of real light, nor from one of them was the Biblical answer to the question, "What must I do to be saved?" even hinted to her. All that they could say was that if she was one of the elect she would, without fail, at some future time be the subject of "the effectual call," and that if she was "not elected," her salvation was impossible. At length she providentially fell under the teaching of a preacher of another order, by whom JESUS was preached to her. Under such ministrations upon the deep midnight of her soul "the Sun of Righteousness arose with healing in His wings." Since that good hour many, very many, lost souls have been saved through her instrumentality. One of the most celebrated preachers in Christendom, bewildered and joyless, was induced by the sudden approach of a violent shower, when on his way to his own place of worship, to step aside into an obscure Primitive Methodist chapel. Here the way of salvation through faith in Christ was made plain to his mind, and he went his way "rejoicing in hope of the glory of God." Dr. Chalmers often had most impressive intuitions of "this new and living way," as God has revealed it, in contrast with "the hard doctrines" so commonly taught in the Church to which he belonged. Under the power of such an intuition, he, on one occasion, thus addressed his theological class—our informant having taken down his words as he uttered them: "Young gentlemen," he exclaimed with the deepest emotion, "were the inhabitants of one of our villages inquiring what they must do to be saved, I would much prefer sending to them two of your 'ignorant' Methodist preachers, who would tell them the way of life and salvation through faith in Christ, than to send one of these learned divines who is so deeply steeped in orthodoxy that he cannot preach to them a full and a free salvation."

To return from this digression. No ray of light reaching me from any source around me, I wandered on in a state of mental anguish which rendered me a spectacle of wonder to my pupils and the whole community about me. At the commencement of the revival, the pastor who preached alternately in the church in the town where I was teaching school, and in that where my parents lived, was prostrated with a sickness of which he afterwards died. The work for some time, consequently, went on without any ministerial help. At length a missionary, who had several times put up at my father's residence, and for whom I felt much esteem, came into the place where I was. With him I at once sought an interview, in the hope of obtaining some light upon the way I should take. After I had stated my case, he simply repeated to me what others had said before. At length, with indescribable agony, I exclaimed, "What SHALL I do?" With a cold severity which shocked my whole being, he replied, "You must repent," and manifested a desire to discontinue the conversation. Had he smitten me in the face, I should not have thought myself more flagrantly insulted than I did by that reply. He knew, and I knew full well, that, according to the doctrines we both held, repentance, faith, and all Christian duties were to me utter impossibilities, until after the great change should be wrought in me through "the effectual call;" and that my only proper concern at the moment, if that doctrine were true, was about that change and that call, and not about duties which would follow their occurrence.

After that interview I passed a full week amid "the blackness of darkness" of blank despair. During this entire period, had I been possessed of all the world, I would freely have parted with it for the privilege of shedding a single tear; but not a tear, during all that time, moistened my eye or my cheek. With what agony did I then continuously revolve the thought, "O that the decree of election might be gone over again! that God would consent to reconsider my case ! It might be that He would then include me among the elect. But no; my doom is fixed. From eternity I was foreordained to eternal death, and God will never reverse that decree." At length my power to endure positive mental agony gave way, and my mind settled down into the thick gloom of fixed despondency.

At this time, I went home and spent a night there. My desire was to prepare my mother for a future which to me appeared inevitable. I told her that I was absolutely assured that I was not one of the elect, and that consequently this period of religious awakening would pass away, and leave me a hopeless, reckless reprobate. To this she must make up her mind. She mast expect to see her son, hereafter, one of the most recklessly wicked reprobates on earth. She insisted that I was already converted. "No," I replied, "that change is not for me." When I took leave of her in the morning, I said to her, and that with strong crying and tears, "I have but one desire, and that is to be a Christian. I would readily give all the world, did I possess it, to be what you are. For me, however, there is no hope. My doom is fixed, and God won't reverse it."

Immediately after this a change occurred in my experience; a change which I have ever regarded as, if not miraculous, yet altogether supernatural.

The Great Change.

While I was desponding in the settled gloom above described, God, by His Spirit, became a directly and personally manifested Presence to my mind. I had an absolute intuition of Him, an intuition direct and immediate, as infinitely pure, true, just, good, and pertect, as loving me with a love absolutely ineffable, as ever having thus loved me, and as having ever been more than ready to receive me, pardon all my sins, and bless me with His eternal favour, had I, as I might have done, sought Him, inquired after Him, given myself to Him, confessed to Him my sins and sought pardon at His hands. Of no facts had I ever before been so impressively conscious as I then was of all these Divinely manifested verities. At the same time and with equal distinctness, I was made to know myself as I was and had been. In the mirror of the Divine purity, perfection, love, and grace, my whole moral life stood revealed with, absolute distinctness to my own mind. From all the infinite and ineffable purity, excellency, and love, now unveiled to my apprehension, I had ever been in voluntary and criminal estrangement. I had never sought to know God, my Maker and Redeemer, had never sought His favour, or cared at all whether my life and conduct were pleasing or displeasing to Him. I had never, even in thought, entertained a sentiment or emotion of gratitude for favours received, or regret for aggravated violation of His will. All this had been true, while the opposite might have been true. Of all this I was rendered distinctly and absolutely conscious. Now, for the first time in my life, the idea of moral desert entered my mind, and the idea of ill-desert combined with that of sin. In a moment I recognised myself as not only under condemnation to eternal death, but as absolutely deserving that doom, and as deserving nothing less and nothing else than this. In degree of criminal desert I seemed to myself for a considerable time to stand alone under the eye of God. I distinctly thought upon the subject, and for a considerable time sincerely believed that no being in existence could be as guilty and hell-deserving as I was. Several weeks transpired before I fully dared to entertain the assurance that such criminality could be forgiven. I saw myself "in the hands of the living God," without a solitary excuse for my sin, or the remotest claim to the Divine clemency. While I saw myself thus and dared not hope for pardon, I had no desire to be out of God's hands, and entertained a perfect resignation that He should dispose of me as His infinite wisdom and love should dictate. To all around me I said distinctly, "I have no fear that I shall receive at the hands of my God anything worse than I deserve. If I am condemned as I deserve to be, I will stand before God and the universe, and affirm my doom to be just." These were the identical sentiments to which I gave distinct and frequent utterance. I was not then aware that such a state is incompatible with anything but a direct interest in the infinite grace and mercy of God. No one who has not had a similar experience can conceive the utter abhorrence with which I regarded the life which I had, up to that time, lived before God. The thought of perdition, as I have said in another book, was not so fearful to my mind as a continuance in alienation and estrangement from such a Being.

In this state of mind—to quote from my former work—when alone with God, I bowed the knee before Him and confessed that I had no right to ask or expect any favour at His hands, and that my whole eternity hung upon His mere grace and mercy. One favour I would venture to ask, that I might be kept from ever returning to that state of alienation from Him in which my life had been spent, and that I might have grace to appreciate His love, excellence, and glory; to love and venerate Him, and have a sacred respect for His will. If He would grant me this, I would accept of anything in time and eternity that He might appoint me. This was the exact substance and form of that prayer. I had no sooner pronounced these words than I was consciously encircled in the " everlasting arms." I was so overshadowed with a sense of the manifested love of a forgiving God and Saviour that my whole mental being seemed to be dissolved and pervaded with an ineffable quietude and assurance. I arose from my knees without a doubt that I was an adopted member of the family of God. With "the peace of God, which passeth all understanding," pervading every department of my mental nature, I could look upward, and, without a cloud between my soul and the face of God, could and did exclaim, "My Father and my God!" Such was my entrance into the inner life.

While there are important differences, there are essential resemblances between my own case and that of Colonel Gardiner. Each was brought to see his great sinfulness and desert of eternal doom, not by a direct showing of the sin itself, but through a supernatural manifestation of God to the mind. The manifestation came to him when meditating a great crime, and waiting the designated hour for its perpetration, and to me when in fixed despondency about my eternal state. The manifestation to him seemed to be external and visible—Christ dying upon the cross for his sins. The manifestation to me was wholly internal and spiritual,—God in His purity and love personally made manifest to my mind. What was common to the two cases was this: in the light of the manifestation each saw his moral life as it was and had been, and the infinitude of the guilt, criminality, and hell-desert of that life. Each, too, had an intuition equally absolute of the fact, that his life might have been, and ought to have been, the opposite of what it had been. The manifestation to Colonel Gardiner was on this wise. The company with whom he had been spending the evening broke up about eleven. Exactly at twelve he had an assignation with a married woman. To while away the interval he engaged in reading a book. While so doing he thought he saw an unusual light fall on the book. "Lifting up his eyes, as he apprehended, to his extreme amazement, there was before him, as it were suspended in the air, a visible representation of the Lord Jesus Christ upon the cross, surrounded on all sides with glory; and he was impressed as if a voice had come to him to this effect, 'O, sinner! did I suffer this for thee, and are these the returns?" Throughout that night he did not once "recollect that criminal and detestable assignation which had before engrossed all his thoughts." After sitting for a while, as if there remained hardly any life in him, he ran and walked to and fro in his chamber, appearing to himself the vilest monster in existence, because he had all his lifetime been crucifying Christ afresh by his sins. Thus he saw the horror of what he had done. With this was connected such a view of the majesty and goodness of God as caused him to loathe and abhor himself and to repent as in dust and ashes. "After I had that astonishing sight I had of my blessed Lord," says Colonel Gardiner, "the terrible condition in which I was proceeded not so much from the terrors of the law, as from a sense of having been so ungrateful a monster to Him Whom I thought I saw pierced for my transgressions." So, in my own case, after the personal manifestation which God made to me of His purity, glory, and love, the fear of eternal doom, the fear which had occupied a supreme position before, had little place in my mind. My whole being, on the other hand, was occupied with the infinitude of the criminality and loathsomeness of a life of voluntary and horrible estrangement from such a Being.

Let us now consider two truths of fundamental importance, suggested and impressed upon our minds by the two cases before us.

Essential Truths suggested by these Cases.

I. The nature of the work of the Spirit in convicting of sin here claims our special attention. In such conviction there is always induced, not a mere dread of eternal doom, but a distinctly conscious desert of that doom; and this sense of criminal desert will mainly occupy the mind. This sense of desert of doom, let me add, is always induced, as a matter of fact, by rendering the mind distinctly conscious of its past voluntary relations to God. In the case of Colonel Gardiner and myself, for example, the Spirit, in showing us our sins, and our desert of eternal doom, did not at all present Adam's sin as imputed to us, or the fact that we "deserve God's wrath and curse both in this life and that which is to come" on account of a fallen nature, in the origination and constitution of which we had no more agency than we had in Adam's first sin. On the other hand, this conscious desert of doom is always, in all cases, induced by a manifestation of God in His relations of Creator and Redeemer, and of the sinner in his life of voluntary estrangement from the Author of his being and life. "When He (the Spirit) is come," says our Saviour, "He shall reprove (convict) the world of sin." "Of sin, because"—of what? Because of Adam's sin imputed to us, or of a fallen nature innocently by us derived from Adam? No. "Of sin, because they believed not on Me." "This is the condemnation," the reason why men will be condemned—not that they are held doomed to endure "God's wrath and curse" for anything in the origination and constitution of which they had no choice or agency at all; but "that light is come into the world, and men loved darkness rather than light, because their deeds were evil." Not for the constitution of the body, nor for the nature we had when put into the body, but "for the deeds done in the body" are we to be judged at the great day. And the Spirit shows these deeds, and these only, when He convicts of sin and its desert; and here, and here only, sin is found. Any teacher of truth who teaches that our real sin is found anywhere else than in our "deeds done in the body," wholly misinterprets the Word of God, and the work of the Spirit. When the Spirit shows us our evil propensities, He shows us not sin, but causes and occasions of sin, causes which are to be removed "by the renewing of the Holy Ghost."

2. We are now prepared to state the immutable conditions on which the conscious desert of doom can by any possibility have place in the mind. This conscious desert can arise but in view of what we consciously have been, and consciously might have been. That was the exact light in which my life of sin was set before me by the Spirit of God. I was not rendered more absolutely conscious of what my life had been, than I was of the fact that it might have been, and consequently ought to have been, the opposite of what it had been. Such were the convictions induced in the mind of Colonel Gardiner, and such are the convictions induced in every mind which the Spirit of God convicts of sin.

"Of all the words of tongue or pen,

The saddest word, It might have been."

Take from the spirits in the eternal prison their absolute consciousness that they might not have been where they are, and that they might have been in the kingdom of light, and you extract from hell, not its despair, but all its remorse, all its conscious desert of doom. Induce in any being the fixed and absolute conviction that, whatever his moral life may have been, no other form of life was possible to him, and that that life could not but have been as it was and what it was, and the conviction of the desert of doom is absolutely impossible to him.

CHAPTER III.

EARLY STEPS HEAVENWARD.

THE saintly life, as God has revealed it, has two sides, namely, a Godward and a manward side; the latter including the Church and the world. The Church, as God has portrayed and ordained her, is not a hospital for invalids, but "an army with banners," a sacramental host, marshalled for world conquest under the mighty Conqueror "who hath upon His vesture and on His thigh a name written, KING OF KINGS, AND LORD OF LORDS."

This sacred host is marshalled, armed and equipped, to "fight against sin," and "the weapons of its warfare are mighty through God to the pulling down of strongholds." Not a single soldier in the army of the Lord ever needs to say, "I am sick," or to be laid up in a hospital on account of sin-wounds received from the world, the flesh, or the devil. All in common are privileged to be clad in an armour and covered with a shield by which ALL "the fiery darts of the wicked shall be quenched," and to wield "a sharp two-edged sword," with which "one shall chase a thousand, and two put ten thousand to flight." All this is unqualifiedly true. What less than this can our Saviour mean when He says, "Verily, verily, I say unto you, He that believeth on Me, the works that I do shall he do also; and greater works than these shall he do; because I go unto my Father"? Every solitary believer in Jesus is privileged, and most sacredly bound, to be endued with all the" power from on high," "signs" excepted, which the apostles and their associates received at the Pentecost, to be as "full of faith and of the Holy Ghost" as they were, and to possess in actual fruition ALL that our Saviour meant when He said, "He that believeth on Me, as the Scripture hath said, out of his belly shall flow rivers of living water." At no period of his Christian life can "the believer be so readily prepared to receive the baptism of the Holy Ghost," and thus to be "filled with all the fulness of God," as during the period of his "first love." His consecration to Christ is then supreme, his "hunger and thirst after righteousness" subordinate in his mind all other desires, and his faith is so simple and childlike that he will readily receive "the things which are freely given us of God," as soon as he clearly apprehends them. But when these primal joys have faded out, and the mind has become habituated to a state in which it "walks in darkness and has no light," and has come to think, perhaps, that God has "reserved" no "better things for us" in this life, how difficult it is for the believer, in the midst of all his worldly entanglements, to get back into that childlike faith in which he will "receive with meekness the engrafted word!"

Those joyful converts in Samaria needed but to be "instructed in the way of the Lord," to be fully prepared to receive the Holy Ghost under the hands of Peter and John. Not six months had passed after Paul, with Silas and Timothy, had spent but three Sabbaths in Thessalonica, before a fully organised church of Christ existed there, with pastors, and teachers, and prophets, and a membership so "full of faith and of the Holy Ghost," that from them "sounded out the word of the Lord not only in Macedonia and Achaia, but also in every place this faith to Godward was spread abroad," so that Paul and his associates had no occasion to return there to "speak anything." Were all converts "instructed in the way of the Lord," as they were then, instead of appearing as they do now, "a feeble folk," sickly, and unable to "fly or go," they would everywhere be seen "girded with everlasting strength," "holding forth the word of life," and ready and "able to endure hardness as good soldiers of Christ."

In illustration and verification of these statements, permit me to refer to my own case. I can here "speak what I do know, and testify what I have seen." At the time described at the close of the last chapter, when I became distinctly conscious of my acceptance with God, so completely dead had I become to all worldly hopes, desires, and ambitions, that, having no apprehension that I could ever attain to a qualification to preach the Gospel, I gave up wholly all thought of a liberal education. I returned home, on the contrary, with no higher aspirations or expectations than to serve God in the humble sphere of a "tiller of the ground." One desire fully and consciously possessed my whole being,—the desire to be, in all my activities, in perfect harmony with the will of God. Even perdition, as I have already said, was not so dreadful to me as was the idea of a return to the old life which I had abandoned. What I supremely and specifically desired was,—deadness, total and entire, to that life. The least appearance of a worldward or sinward tendency would instantly startle me, and drive me to my closet. When the thought that I might glorify my God and Saviour by occupying the sphere of a preacher of the Gospel was suggested by another person, and presented as practicable, it was received with perfect ecstasy. I am absolutely conscious that I have not overdrawn a single feature or element of my moral and spiritual state at the time referred to.

Suppose, now, that at this period some Aquila and Priscilla had "instructed me in the way of the Lord more perfectly" than I had ever been taught it before; that, after expounding to me the true import of my calling as a saint of God, they had fully set before me the scene of the Pentecost, and then showed that by absolute promise of God, a promise to be received by faith, just as that of pardon had been, I was, as a believer in Jesus, entitled to expect to receive, for my life-mission and work, all the moral and spiritual enduements of power that the apostles and their associates, then and there, received for theirs, and to be rendered as "full of faith and of the Holy Ghost" as they were; that it is as clearly and distinctly a revealed part of the mission of Christ to " baptize with the Holy Ghost," as it is to "take away sin;" that the Spirit, when given, would "strengthen me with might in the inner man, that Christ might dwell in my heart by faith, that I, being rooted and grounded in love, might comprehend the breadth, and depth, and length, and height, and know the love of Christ which passeth knowledge, and be filled with all the fulness of God;" that by the Spirit "the eyes of my understanding would be enlightened, that I might know the things which are freely given me of God," and "behold with open face, as in a glass, the glory of the Lord, and be changed into the same image from glory to glory;" that through the Spirit I should be indwelt by Christ as He was indwelt by the Father; that Christ and the Father would then come to me, and make Their abode with me, my fellowship being with the Father and with His Son Jesus Christ; and that, as the result, I should ever find myself "complete in Christ," "His grace," at all times, and in all circumstances, "being sufficient for me," while God would "make all grace abound toward" me, so that I, "having always all sufficiency for all things, should abound unto every good work." Suppose that all these clearly revealed privileges had been distinctly set before me at that time, would I not as eagerly and as readily have laid hold of them as did those young converts in Samaria, and those twelve believers whom Paul met at Ephesus? Should I have wandered, as I did, during those eighteen years, amid the dim twilight of a semi-faith, conscious that I had somewhere missed my way, and often crying out, "O that I knew where I might find Him!" No, reader. Had I known these things during the period of my primal religious life, for the past sixty-five, instead of the past forty-seven years, "the Lord would have been to me an everlasting light, and my God my glory."

So would it be with young converts generally, were they early instructed, as they should be, and as primitive converts were. A friend of mine stated to me that when travelling in Scotland some years since, he met with a lady who, as illustrative of the hallowed influence of the doctrine under consideration, gave him this account of certain facts of her own observation and experience. She had been, during the prior revivals, instrumental in the conversion of twelve young ladies in the families around her. These individuals consequently looked to her as their spiritual adviser. When they were all with her at one time, each one of them told her that her religious life was not at all satisfactory to her own mind; that she seemed to be sliding backward rather than advancing, and to be growing weaker and weaker rather than stronger and stronger. Having stated these facts, they asked her if there was no remedy. She then set before them the great truth under consideration. They unitedly sought and obtained "the promise of the Spirit." "As the result," said the lady, "they are all, every one of them, walking in the peace and light of God." It is sad to think of a convert who was "born out of due time." It is far sadder to think of one born where the darkness has not passed away, and the true light does not shine.

During the period of my primal joy and love, while I was ignorant of "the riches of the glory of this mystery among the Gentiles, which is Christ in you, the hope of glory," I did take some steps heavenward, steps which gave character to my whole subsequent Christian life, and led finally to my entrance into this higher light in which I have walked for the past forty-seven years. Permit me now to illustrate these statements by referring to a few examples.

The First Great Conflict and Victory.

I have already referred to the fact that the consciousness of the least desire drawing me earthward or sinward startled me with instant alarm, and drove me to my knees. We here strike upon a principle of fundamental importance in the Christian life. Many believers, under the presence of such desires, enter into a direct conflict with them, supposing that they are thus fighting "the good fight." Others neglect such desires, leaving them to die out of themselves. In either case there is a very dangerous mistake. Temptations thus resisted, or left to pass away of themselves, are sure to return with greater power, and to find us in greater weakness than at the first encounter. Ere long we shall be "brought into captivity to the law of sin which is in our members." We must fight or fall, and conquer or be taken captive. To be conquerors, and especially to be "more than conquerors," we must not "go a warfare at our own charges." Ours must be a "fight of faith." "Whom resist steadfast in the faith." Every temptation or sinward desire should be instantly taken to Christ, and put into His hands; and power for a permanent victory will be instantly given.

I will here adduce an example which occurred much later in life. One day, on opening a letter, I saw before me a demand for a sum of money which I did not feel able to pay. The demand I knew, and the individual presenting it knew, to be absolutely fraudulent. Yet, not knowing what he would swear to, and whom he might get to swear for him, I concluded that I should be obliged to meet the demand. The sudden occurrence of such an event produced no little inward agitation. Then and there I instantly lifted my heart to God, and said, "Lord, here is a new department of my nature addressed. I ask Thee to take all this inward perturbation away, and to induce in its stead a state of mind in which, if I am defrauded, I shall 'take joyfully the spoiling of my goods.'" That prayer was instantly answered. All internal perturbation disappeared; and had I been compelled to pay that fraudulent claim, it would not have cost me a mental pang. Some time after this, all the available funds I had in the world for life-support, several thousand dollars, funds which had been entrusted to certain individuals for safe keeping and investment, were appropriated by them and put beyond my reach. Not a ripple did these events stir upon the surface of my mind. "In the world ye shall have tribulation." "In Me ye shall have peace." So I found it, and so have I ever found it, since "the joy of the Lord became my strength." He that "casts all his cares upon the Lord " will "be careful for nothing," but "the peace of God, which passeth all understanding, shall keep his heart and mind by Christ Jesus."

In Out of Darkness into Light I refer to one great and decisive "trial of faith" which I had in my early Christian life. I recur to this event here on account of its essential bearing upon all that has since followed. The occasion was the day of the State and town elections, which occurred in early spring. That was the great gala day of the year, ordinary labour being wholly suspended, and the mass of the youth of my own age, and younger lads, always meeting at the place where the elections were held; that place being in the immediate vicinity of my father's residence, and directly under my eye wherever I moved. When I saw my former associates engaged in their wild sports, in which I had ever before so intensely delighted and very much excelled, it seemed as if the concentrated powers of "the world, the flesh, and the devil," in their accumulated strength, were brought to bear upon my young and susceptible mind, to induce me to join that company, and in doing so to make a final choice of the worldly instead of the religious life. As soon as I was at liberty to leave home, having the day free to myself I took my Bible and went into the forest far out of sight and hearing of the causes of my temptation. There I spent the day reading the Sacred Word, in meditation, and prayer. The result of thus seeking "grace to help in time of need" was not only deliverance from the temptation which then beset me, but a life-deadness to sinful pleasures in all their forms. From that time to the present I have not felt the least drawing towards any form of amusement not conscientiously regarded as healthy and compatible with the Christian life in its divinest forms. The dogma is quite commonly entertained that our old nature, indwelling sins, are never in this life eradicated, but remain to "war in our members," and to be warred against. Here we have an example of the utter eradication of one such indwelling sin; and if one may be got rid of, why may not "our old man," that is, the old nature, "be crucified with Him, that the body of sin" (indwelling sin in all its forms) "be destroyed, that henceforth we should not serve sin?" But this was not the only heavenward step that I took there in that wilderness. My whole Christian character then and there assumed a positive form. It had been chiefly negative before, being contemplative and not active, devotional and not aggressive. I left that forest a consciously dedicated servant of Christ, dedicated for one specific calling, to "win souls," and felt myself under an enduement of power for that service.

Soon after this I spent several days in the place where I was converted, going there to witness the public examination of the converts, and their reception into the church on the Sabbath. While there, the father of my friend Walker questioned me about my plans for the future. On my telling him that I had no definite plan in mind, he replied that the ministry was the sphere to which I was manifestly called, and that I should at once set about a preparation for it. My response was, that such a sphere appeared to me so high and sacred that it did not seem that I could ever be deemed worthy of it. In the course of the conversation, however, I was fully convinced that my venerable adviser was right. The conviction, as I have stated, was received with perfect ecstasy, which excited the wonder and pleasure of all who were present. From that hour I set my face with singleness of purpose towards this high calling. In the meantime I set about winning souls from the world around me. Nor were my labours in vain in the Lord. Before I had completed my first year in College, I had taught four winter schools, all but one of which were occasions of powerful revivals of religion. Some six or eight months of one year, during my preparatory course, I spent in a society where, under a regular ministry, there had been no revival for very many years. At Midsummer I proposed to four or five young men, Christians like myself, that we should meet in a private room one evening each week for prayer and religious conversation. All the meetings were strictly private, and intended to be such. Individuals outside, however, soon heard that God was with us, and sought admission to our circle. Soon the place became too crowded, and we were necessitated to adjourn to the large schoolhouse in the village. Not more than two or three months had passed, before the pastor came in and found a crowded audience there. He then told us with tears how that, for nearly twenty years past, himself and the members of his church had been mourning over the want of revival influence in the community, and how his heart was now rejoiced at the prospect of a great in-gathering of souls. The work thus commenced continued during the winter, and a great and general revival was the result. I state such facts for the sake of admonishing all candidates for the ministry, who may fall in with these lines, that if they put off the work of "winning souls" until their so-called education is completed, their life-ministry will, in all probability, be comparatively barren of saving results. The celebrated revivalist, Dr. Nettleton, was hardly more devoted to the work of saving souls after he entered the ministry, than he was while preparing for it. What very deeply affected my mind, when I became a member of a Theological Seminary, was the manifest fact, that among the one hundred or more young men around me but few seemed to have any thought of doing anything in the direction under consideration, until after their education was completed. A few were ever looking out for opportunities to "persuade men," and laboured in revivals of religion whenever they could find them. These, with no known exceptions, had great power in "winning souls," as preachers of the everlasting Gospel. I have heard of very few souls saved under the ministry of the other class. Delaying, till some future time, active and aggressive work for Christ implies present want of grace in the heart, a want which the exercise of the ministerial functions is not likely at all to remove.

Assurance: Witness of the Spirit.

The Scriptures speak of "assurance of faith," "assurance of hope," and "assurance of understanding." To the manner in which I early entered into the full possession and enjoyment of "assurance of hope," an assurance in the light and consolation of which I have lived and walked ever since, it may be well to refer very briefly in this connection. I have already spoken of the utter horror and reprobation with which I from the first regarded the utterly godless life which I had led during the period of my unregeneracy, and of the place which that sentiment held in my mind at the time when I obtained full assurance of my acceptance with God. That I might be kept for ever from returning to that reprobated life, and that I might ever be pre- served in a state of supreme and sacred respect for the character and will of God, became with me the subject of constant, long-continued, and most fervent prayer. Whenever "I bowed my knees unto the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ," this was the leading burden of my prayer. At length I received a perfect inward assurance that I should have grace to "hold the beginning of my confidence steadfast unto the end." With this assurance the sentiment that I could "live after the flesh, and not die;" that I could sin, and not incur the proper penalty of sin; or that I could be kept without watchfulness and prayer on my part,—had no place whatever. Nor was it a mere assurance that I should be saved at last. It was the full assurance that I should be "kept by the power of God through faith unto salvation." This is "the full assurance of hope" in which I have lived and walked for the past sixty-five years.

Witness of the Spirit.

We may now throw some light upon the doctrine of "The Witness of the Spirit." The Spirit, as we are taught, is bestowed, that, "the eyes of our understanding being enlightened, we may KNOW the things which are freely given us of God." There are forms of knowledge which pertain almost exclusively to the head, and which play around the heart but to "puff up." There are, on the other hand, forms of knowledge in which there is a direct, immediate, and open beholding of the things of God. Such knowledge diffuses the peace and love of God through every department of our being, and vitalises all our activities. Such illuminations are always attended with the assurance that "we are the sons of God." At one time we know ourselves as accepted of God. At another the manifestation comes in the form of a promise; as, for example, "My presence (face) shall go with thee, and I will give thee rest," or, as in the case of Paul, "My grace is sufficient for thee: for My strength is made perfect in weakness." In other cases, "We behold with open face as in a glass the glory of the Lord, and are changed into the same image from glory to glory," or have conscious "fellowship with the Father, and with His Son Jesus Christ." All such manifestations imply our sonship, and are attended with the consciousness of it. In them all in common, consequently, "the Spirit itself beareth witness with (to) our spirit that we are children of God." Those greatly err who confine this "witness" to a direct and immediate testimony to the mere fact of sonship.

Choice of Life Principles.

Finding myself, as a newly-adopted servant of Christ and son of God, standing in the midst of a great diversity of opposing sects, and conflicting schools in my own denomination, the question, at a very early period of my Christian life, came distinctly before my mind, "What shall be my life-principle of judging and action?" Two widely diverse choices were presented one of which I was necessitated to select. I might choose my denomination,—my own, of course,—and my school in the same, and then accept of its system as the sum and substance of Christian truth. In that case I should be at home and at peace within my own limited circle, but stand in a hostile attitude towards all other schools and sects around me. Or, in the second place, as it is self-evident that there is, or may be, an admixture of truth and error in the systems of all evangelical schools and sects, I might, in the light of a sacred respect for "the law and the testimony" as my absolute authority in all questions of doctrine and life, carefully examine all systems which should fall under my observation, separate the true from the false in them all, and construct my own system from "the living stones" which I should thus gather. In adopting this course, I clearly perceived that I should not be fully at home anywhere, but should lead just such a life as I have led. At the same time I as distinctly saw that on no other line could I have peace of conscience and walk closely with God. With inward agony hardly less excruciating, as it seems to me, than crucifixion, I adopted this as the fixed law of my future life. And now, if I were standing where I did sixty-five years ago, and had before me all that I have endured and suffered, I would, with all my heart, and with all my soul, readopt this sacred principle. To one who judges and acts in absolute conformity with this principle, truth received has always an immortal freshness, and ever reflects upon the soul the face of "the Sun of Righteousness."

I will here give a single example in illustration, of my meaning. After I had left my church in Cincinnati, to occupy the place of President of Oberlin College, one of my new school associates in the Cincinnati Presbytery was asked the question, "What do you think of President Mahan?" "I don't like him," was the reply. "He would never act with his party." Or, as might have been said, He would never advocate any doctrine but under the conviction that it was true, or any measure but under the persuasion that it was right and wise. He would never accept or adopt anything because it was the mere watchword of a party or sect. No one ever accused me of being quarrelsome or captious. But truth and duty were the golden pavement on which I was immutably determined to walk. "I would to God" that all ministers and members of our churches were, not only almost, but altogether such as I have been in this fundamental respect.

Discerning Character, and Copying the Example of others.

I must here refer to one other life-principle which I very early apprehended and adopted, and have followed during these sixty-five years. We very frequently meet with individuals, the watchword of whose lives is the example of some leading thinker or actor. In the Scriptures we are required to be "followers," or imitators, of God, of Christ, and of apostles, and prophets, and holy men, who have gone before us or are now living. In all such requirements peculiar mental characteristics, and the mere visibilities of life, are never referred to. Reference is always had to the spirit and vital principles by which such persons are governed. "Be ye followers of God, as dear children, and walk in love, as Christ also hath loved us, and gave Himself for us." "Let this mind (spirit) be in you which was also in Christ Jesus." "Whose faith follow." "Take, my brethren, the prophets, who have spoken in the name of the Lord, for an example of suffering affliction, and of patience." There are several respects in which we may study the characters and lives of others, and attempt to imitate the same. We may think of the visibilities of their lives, and aim to copy them. Or we may study their doctrinal teachings, and accept them, not only as true, but as the sum and substance of all Divine truth. Or, lastly, we may study their interior spirit and principles, and aim to copy whatever is Divine in them. In either case we may regard ourselves as imitators of our adopted models.

A certain minister in the United States, for example, had become an almost worshipful admirer of Mr. Wesley, and determined to be his full imitator. He, accordingly, carefully put down how many hours Mr. Wesley spent in sleep, how many in study, how many in prayer, and how many in active duties; how many meals he took, and how much and what he ate and drank at each meal, &c. Having laid down all these as absolute rules for himself, he set himself in right good earnest to copy his model. The result was that our preacher, in less than one year, was laid aside entirely from the ministry as a hopeless dyspeptic. Suppose, on the other hand, that he had determined to think just as Mr. Wesley did, and had accordingly studied all his teachings, accepting the same as absolute truths, and the sum and sub- stance of the Gospel. In that case, our preacher would have rendered him- self as hopeless a spiritual dyspeptic as he had a physical one by an attempt to copy Mr. Wesley in another respect. Suppose, finally, that our preacher had this spirit, his faith in God, his consecration to Christ, his patient endurance of affliction and wrong, the singleness and purity of all his pur- poses and aims, and the enduements of power from on high under which that man of God lived and acted, and had made it a fixed aim to copy him in all these imitable respects. Suppose further that, with a wise discrimination, our preacher had studied Mr. Wesley's teachings and doctrines with a supreme reference to their adaptation to render that man of God what he was, and to induce similar transformations in all who should receive them as he did, and had valued and received them for the same end that Mr. Wesley did. In that case, "the righteousness" of our preacher would have "gone forth as brightness, and his salvation as a lamp that burneth."

In all our churches there are multitudes of almost hopeless spiritual dyspeptics who have rendered themselves such by causes like those above described. The individual who commits to memory his church catechism or formulary of doctrine, or stores his mind with the teachings of any man or class of men, and, without "searching the Scriptures whether these things are so," accepts their dogmas as the sum and substance of Divine truth, is worse than a spiritual dyspeptic; "he is dead while he liveth." The living healthful saint "calls no man master," and has but one standard and test of Divine truth, "the law and the testimony," and whatever he accepts as true in the creeds or teachings of men, he accepts and values for this exclusive reason, its clear accordance with the Sacred Word.

Studying men in the light of the principles under consideration, I often find in the spirit and vital principles of individuals, from whom I totally differ on many important questions of doctrine, very much to love and imitate; and in the spirit and interior principles of others, with whom I fully agree in doctrine, nothing to approve or adopt. The doctrine of the will, as set forth in the writings of President Edwards and of myself, for example, is, in all respects, in opposition the one to the other, and I stand at the antipodes of all his necessitarian teachings. Yet there is hardly an individual known in Christian history with whose spirit and life-principles I hold deeper and more constant fellowship than with his. We cannot get very near the centre of his heart without getting quite near that of Christ.

Such are some of the steps heavenward which I early found grace to take, and which have determined my subsequent Christian course thus far; and these things from "the spoils" (thus early) "won in battle have I dedicated to maintain the house of the Lord."

CHAPTER IV.

PRIMAL SOUL-CULTURE, HOW ADVANCED,

AND HOW HINDERED.

THE believer on his entrance into the kingdom of grace, whatever the period of his natural life may be, appears there as "a new creature," "a new-born babe," "a babe in Christ." The sphere of existence and activity into which he has been introduced is wholly new to him. He has been regenerated that he may grow, "grow up in Christ in all things," and thus attain to "the measure of the stature of the fulness of Christ." He has been introduced into this new sphere of existence and activity, not merely to grow, but to be in the world as Christ was in the world, to "do the works which He did," to live and act among men as "the salt of the earth," and "the light of the world." If he falls short of this, his life is a failure, a dishonour to himself, to Christ Who redeemed him to God, and to the Spirit Who regenerated him; a cause of weakness to the Church, and a false light to the world. "He is good for nothing." It is hardly to be supposed that the life of a genuine new-born soul, a soul born of God, and rightly educated and trained, should be anything less than a glorious success. Hence the stress which is everywhere, in the New Testament and the Old too, laid upon spiritual growth and discipline, even more being said upon this one subject than upon the mission of the Church for the conversion of the world. The reason is obvious. A believer who abides in Christ, and "is through Him," filled more and more "with all the fulness of God," cannot be in the world anything less or anything else than "a burning and a shining light," and "as a prince" he must have "power with God and with men." A church made up of such believers will be an all-conquering host against "all the powers of the enemy."

Nor is the Church or its ministry left without a clearly and distinctly revealed METHOD, in conformity with which God requires His sons and daughters to be educated and disciplined for active service in His cause and kingdom. In the four Gospels we have a distinct record of the method in accordance with which Christ educated and disciplined His converts during the three years in which they remained under His tuition, until they were endued with power for world-conquest at the Pentecost. In the Acts we have a revelation equally distinct of the method in conformity with which inspired apostles educated and trained the converts gathered into the kingdom of grace through their ministry. Two inspired Epistles, those to the Thessalonians, are addressed in fact and form to a mass of young converts but a few months after their conversion. Here lessons of infinite moment may be gathered on this vital subject. Here are principles of very ready application, through which we may clearly determine the essential characteristics of the method under consideration. Among these principles I would direct very special attention to the following.

A fixed aim of the Scriptures throughout is, that the people of God shall become "a wise and understanding people." Real knowledge in no form is undervalued. Great importance is attached to "hearing the Word, and understanding it." Salvation is "through sanctification of the Spirit, and belief of the truth." The Spirit is given, "that we might know the things which are freely given us of God." "For the soul to be without knowledge," we read, "is not good." Instruction in doctrine, however, is by no means a primary aim of Scripture. "Though I speak with the tongues of men and of angels, yet have not love, I am become as sounding brass, or a tinkling cymbal. And though I have the gift of prophecy, and understand all mysteries and all knowledge; and though I have all faith, so as to remove mountains, yet have not love, I am nothing." "Thou believest that there is one God; thou doest well; the devils also believe, and trenible." "Knowledge puffeth up." The term doctrine, I would remark, as employed in Scripture, represents much more than it does in common thought and theological discourse. "I give you good doctrine, forsake ye not My law." Here "doctrine" and the principles of duty and right being and doing are represented as one and the same. So, throughout the Bible, the term "doctrine" includes the rules and laws of duty and of life, as fully as it does the being of God, or the Divinity and atonement of Christ. "The wisdom which is from above is first pure, then peaceable, gentle, and easy to be entreated, full of mercy and good fruits, without partiality, and without hypocrisy." "Speaking the things which concern sound doctrine" consists, according to Paul, in teaching "aged men," and "aged women," "young women," "young men," "servants," and all classes of individuals, how to live and act, in their diverse spheres of life and action; in other words, how to "be holy in all manner of conversation." To be "sound in the faith," according to "the pattern shown in the mount," is not merely to hold an orthodox creed,—though that is not to be despised,—but more especially, to "hold the mystery of the faith in a pure conscience." The object of vital concern, however, which Christ and His inspired apostles set before converts and all believers, as the one fixed and supreme aim of their existence, is personal holiness. The Sermon on the Mount was addressed to a mass of converts, who had been, during the few prior months, gathered into the kingdom of God. What is the central theme and aim of that discourse? But one form of doctrine has place anywhere in it, to wit, personal holiness in its completeness and perfection,—how to attain and retain this state,—the relations of the believer to the world when in this state, and when he has forfeited his sacred trust,—and the endless consequences awaiting him as "a hearer and doer," or as a hearer and non-doer, of "the sayings of Christ." Everything was said that could have been said, to render this one subject the fixed and changeless centre about which Christian thought and regard should continuously revolve.

Personal holiness, we must bear in mind, consists, first of all, in being "saved from our sins," and then in "standing perfect and complete in all the will of God." Every word our Saviour uttered, from the time when, "in the power of the Spirit," "He went out of the wilderness," until His sacred hands were extended in blessing over His disciples, was an exclusive means to this one end, to impress upon all believers the great fact that "they have not chosen Christ, but that He has chosen them, and ordained them, that they should go and bring forth fruit, and that their fruit should remain;" and to teach them how to bring forth the fruit required of them. And when "He was by the right hand of God exalted, and had received the promise of the Father," and the disciples were all, consequently, filled with the Holy Ghost, all was done that "they might be a habitation of God through the Spirit," and that "God might make all grace abound toward them, so that they, always having all sufficiency for all things, might abound unto every good work." How impressively is the supreme value which Christ places, and would have us place, upon personal holiness, set before us in such expressions as the following! "For whosoever shall do the will of My Father Which is in heaven, the same is My brother, and sister, and mother." "Yea, rather, blessed are they that hear the word of God, and keep it." "I in them, and Thou in Me, that they may be made perfect in one, and that the world may know that Thou hast sent Me, and hast loved them as Thou hast loved Me." Christ never uttered a sentence, or announced a doctrine, but as a means to this one end.

Upon exactly the same line ran the entire instructions of inspired apostles, and all other of the sacred writers. Holiness in heart and life was the only lesson which they were taught. How their writings everywhere abound in such reminders and admonitions as these! "As He Who hath called you is holy, so be ye holy in all manner of conversation." "Likewise reckon ye also yourselves dead indeed unto sin, but alive unto God through Jesus Christ our Lord." "Your bodies are the temples of the Holy Ghost." "Therefore glorify God in your bodies, and in your spirits, which are His." "Ye are not your own, ye are bought with a price, even the precious blood of Christ." "Let us cleanse ourselves from all filthiness of the flesh and spirit, perfecting holiness in the fear of God." "These things write I unto you, that ye sin not." "Now the God of peace that brought again from the dead our Lord Jesus, that great Shepherd of the sheep, through the blood of the everlasting covenant, make you perfect in every good work to do His will, working in you that which is well pleasing in His sight, through Jesus Christ; to Whom be glory for ever and ever, Amen."

The writings of these holy men of God abound in "doctrine;" but it is the doctrine of holy living. Every revelation of each Person of the Sacred Trinity is set before us as a motive to a godly life. The Spirit "takes of the things of Christ, and shows them unto us," that we, "beholding with open face as in a glass the glory of the Lord, may be changed into the same image from glory to glory." "He strengtheneth with might in the inner man, that Christ may dwell in our hearts by faith;" and we thereby "become rooted and grounded in love." Every truth presented in the Bible is for moral purification, to confirm faith, to render love perfect and obedience absolute.

The first and supreme lesson, then, to be taught the convert, the chief thought with which his mind should be occupied, is the great central fact and truth that he is "called to be a saint;" to be in the "world as Christ was in the world;" to "shine as a light in the world;" to "win souls;" to "perfect the saints;" to "be fruitful in every good work;" and that when he comes short of being and doing all this, he becomes "reprobate silver," the most blighting curse with which the Church and the world can be smitten. He then needs to be instructed most fully in regard to the conditions of fruitfulness in the kingdom of grace; his completeness in Christ for all the exigencies of his sacred calling, and the infinite fulness that exists in Him to render every believer thus complete; the enduements of power which he is privileged to receive for the full accomplishment of his life mission and work; and the endless consequences to himself and others which are pending upon his fidelity or want of fidelity to his sacred calling.

These are the eternal verities in the midst of which, and under the influence of which, Christ and His inspired apostles educated young and old believers, and in the midst of which, and under the influence of which, all converts, in all ages, should be educated. Everywhere they should be under the influence of a united church sentiment, that no other form of life is expected of them and all should be enforced by the admonitions and examples of ministers and old disciples. Everywhere the old disciples should be to young converts what the old veterans were to the new recruits in the army of Wellington on the evening prior to the battle of Waterloo. A considerable portion of that army were of recent enlistment, and had never been under fire up to that time. As soon as it became known, on the evening referred to, that a great battle was to be fought on the next day, these old veterans set about preparing their new associates for the exigencies of the coming conflict, telling them of the overshadowing powers of their great commander; that he had never lost a battle; that no exigency could occur in the coming conflict for which he would not be fully prepared; that the soldiery had only to obey the word of command and do their duty; and the greatest victory ever won by an English army would with infallible certainty be gained on the morrow. It is a matter of question whether England is not as much indebted to the exhortations of those old veterans as to the wisdom of her grand Duke for the victory gained on that day. When old disciples shall sustain similar relations to new recruits in the army of the Lord, there will not be a coward, or a weakling, or a backslider in that army, not one who will not "endure hardness as a good soldier of Christ."

Misdirected Primal Christian Education.

To a very great extent young converts, in our churches, are educated after the manner of the waif, rather than that of a son or daughter in the sanctified family of God, of a pupil in the school of Christ, or of a newly enlisted "soldier in the army of the Lord." After his conversion, and a public profession of his faith in the church of his choice, his subsequent character and life are left very much to the companionship and influences which may by chance befall him. For the proper cure of his soul none seem to feel much, if any, responsibility. Who feels responsibility for his restoration, "when overtaken in a fault," to "strengthen him when weak," to "comfort him when feeble-minded," or to impart to him needful instruction in "the way of the Lord?"

In determining the question, with what sect he shall identify himself, what is the supreme issue in the light of which he is expected and required by the public sentiment around him to decide that momentous question? Turning in one direction, he finds this issue presented as of supreme importance,—the mere quantity of water to be applied to his body at his baptism; or the point whether the ordinance is to be applied to the children of believers, or exclusively to adults after conversion. Turning in another direction, the consideration presented as of supreme and absolute authority in determining his inquiries is this,—a ministry affirmed to be in the apostolic succession, and a truly apostolic church. The minister may undeniably be a "blind guide," and his membership as void of true godliness as were the dry bones in Ezekiel's vision of real life. Yet, to reap the supposed benefits arising from apostolic succession, the young convert must place himself under a "blind guide," and make his abode in that "valley of dry bones," and thus render a life of kindred deadness a moral certainty. Turning in another direction, this question is presented as settling the selection, namely, "Which church is organised and officered after the real New Testament model? and which has the soundest creed?" The question, "Where can I find the most sanctifying soul-care, and where can I best exert my powers in the supreme concern of soul-saving and soul-edification?" is not permitted to have any place in the convert's mind in determining this momentous life-question. Suppose, now, that in addition to all this, the great concern manifested by minister and church, in his examination for membership, is not the state of his heart, but his views of doctrine; in some instances, the only questions put to the candidate being those prescribed in the Catechism, and the only answers expected being a mere recitation of those there printed. In making such considerations supreme in deciding such life-issues, the first step is taken in rendering that supreme in the convert's regard, which, with Christ, is of the least and last concern. Being thus early so misdirected, the principle, "Whether ye eat, or drink, or whatsoever ye do, do all to the glory of God," is not very likely to regain its proper place in his mind.

Consider, in the next place, the public sentiment within the church of his choice, the sentiment with which the convert commonly finds himself surrounded in regard to the life which he has in prospect; the sentiment, that the short period after conversion, while primal joy and the "first love" shall continue in their freshness, is the brightest, the purest, and the best period of the Christian life, death-triumph excepted. Between these two periods, as commonly represented, lies a wandering pilgrimage through a dreary desert; a pilgrimage in which there will be a continuous cry,

"Where is the blessedness I knew

When first I saw the Lord?"

Years passed in my Christian experience before I was presented with any other aspect of the religious life but this one. The convert who replied to the congratulations which he had received in respect to his great joy in God, at the time when he publicly united himself with the people of God, "This won't last, I expect to backslide," only echoed the religious sentiment in which he had lived, and moved, and had his being from childhood up. To me, the seventh of Romans was presented as a Divine portraiture of religious life and experience in the highest and best form possible in this life. The Christian and the sinner were represented as both in common "carnal, sold under sin," and both alike in a helpless "captivity to the law of sin and death." The difference between them consisted in this. The sinner chooses and loves his bondage, while the believer groans under his, and vainly struggles to be free from it. The sinner chooses the evil, and refuses the good; the Christian chooses the good, and wills not to do the evil, while "the good he would he does not, but the evil he would not that he does;" finding it the fixed law of all his activity, that when "he would do good, evil is present with him," the law in the members "warring against the law of his mind, and bringing him into captivity to the law of sin in his members." One of the favourite hymns then sung contained an attempted versification of this form of Gospel experience, each successive verse beginning with the words:

"I would, but can't repent;"

"I would, but can't believe;"

"I would, but cannot love;"

"I would, but can't obey."

Thus the responsibility for sin was denied of the will, and attributed wholly to a want of power to avoid it.

Progress in the Christian life was in those days, and is too commonly now, represented as ever attended with greater and greater discoveries of, and insight into, the depths of inward depravity. The idea was, not that sin is revealed in the consciousness, in order that the evil and bitter thing may be taken away, but to increase what was called "humbleness of mind." Prayer and effort to be pure, and to have grace to serve God acceptably, would result but in new and more appalling discoveries of indwelling sin, and the "plague of our own hearts." I recollect the first and last stanzas of a favourite hymn, in which this idea was set forth. The convert was made to say:

"I asked the Lord that I might grow

In- faith, and love, and every grace;

Might more of His salvation know,

And seek more earnestly His face."

The convert, the hymn goes on to say, "thought that in some favoured hour" God would reveal Himself, show His glory, change the petitioner into the Divine "image from glory to glory," and render "his peace as a river, and his righteousness as the waves of the sea." Instead of this, the Lord made the trustful suppliant more and more sensible of the hidden wickedness of his own heart. The last stanza runs thus:

" 'Lord, how is this?' I trembling cried:

'Wilt Thou pursue a worm to death?'

'This is the way,' the Lord replied,

'I answer prayer for grace and faith.'"

The idea of Christ manifested, not merely to make known, but to "take away our sins," had no place then, as it has little place now, in Christian thought. The great lesson to be learned in the school of Christ, and under the illumination of the Spirit of God, was then, and is now too commonly, understood to be, not "the unsearchable riches of Christ," "the riches of the glory of this mystery among the Gentiles, which is Christ in you the hope of glory," but the one endlessly growing lesson of personal sinfulness, sinfulness more and more distinctly and appallingly revealed, but never taken away. The idea of "serving God with a pure conscience and faith unfeigned," of being "more than conquerors through Him that hath loved us," of "fellowship with the Father, and with His Son Jesus Christ," and of "asking and receiving until our joy is full," was not so much as named among believers then, as it is not among a majority of them even now.

The Christian life and the world life were then, as they are quite commonly now, symbolised by two paths leading in opposite directions—the latter covered with flowers, and the former with thorns; the one called "the flowery way," and the other "the thorn-road;" the traveller over the former having present ease and pleasure, but "dying in his sins," while the weary pilgrim over the latter would be ever pained and bleeding with thorn-wounds, but would find rest at last. The idea that "the King's highway" leads through the seventh of Romans wholly veiled from thought God's own description of "the Way of Holiness." "And an highway shall be there, and a way, and it shall be called the Way of Holiness; the unclean shall not pass over it; but it shall be for those: the wayfaring men, though fools, shall not err therein. No lion shall be there, nor any ravenous beast shall go up thereon; it shall not be found there: and the redeemed of the Lord shall return and come to Zion with songs and everlasting joy upon their heads; they shall obtain joy and gladness, and sorrow and sighing shall flee away." Not one of these travellers shall ever bleed or be pained with "thorn-wounds," or cry out, "O wretched man that I am! who shall deliver me from the body of this death?" There is not a thorn on that highway, nor a traveller there who groans under a body of death. The common idea is an unpardonable slander upon "the glorious Gospel of the blessed God."

The aspect of the world in which God has, located us, and of all things in it, was then as now depicted from the book of Ecclesiastes, and was thus expressed in one of the popular hymns:

" How vain are all things here below!

How false, and yet how fair!

Each pleasure has its poison too,

And every sweet a snare."

Such was the aspect with which the convert was taught to regard the works and providences of God around him, and all the good things which a kind Father might shower upon him. Yet he was taught to endeavour to be ever thankful for the "vain things," ensnaring "sweets," and vexatious vanities of this wilderness life. The absurdity of such teachings is made quite manifest by a fact which came to our knowledge several years since. Of all places on earth, the Genesee Valley, in the State of New York, is one of the most productive in all that administers to the physical comforts of life. Landholders there "are princes." When I was on a visit to an uncle residing there, a cousin, who owned a magnificent farm in the valley, made this statement to me. The Baptist church of which he was a member, and which was located in the village near by, had occasion to seek a pastor. They accordingly sent a request to the Theological Faculty of the Rochester University, a Baptist institution, that they would send one of their promising students to preach as a candidate for the vacant office. As the young man rose in the pulpit, his dress made it quite manifest that upon some of the "vain things here below" he placed, to say the least, a reasonable value. With his mind, however, filled with the sentiment of that misapplied but oft-repeated text, "Vanity of vanities, vanity of vanities, saith the Preacher, all is vanity," he introduced the services with the hymn which begins thus:

Lord, what a wretched land is this,

That yields us no supply!"

The absurdity was too obvious for the gravity even of an audience trained in the idea that the religious life is mainly a continuous groan. The people looked at each other and could hardly restrain laughter. "He has forgotten that he is in the Genesee Valley," whispered a gentleman that sat near my cousin. The young candidate "departed without being desired." Had I the ear of the Faculty of that seminary, and of that of every other similar institution, I would entreat them not to present to their pupils, as the Christian idea of life and providence, the aspect of these same Divine verities as viewed from the backsliding standpoint, the only aspect presented in Ecclesiastes. "Every creature (gift) of God is good, and nothing to be refused, if it be received with thanksgiving."

As viewed by the consecrated traveller on "the Way of Holiness," all things are full of God, and manifest His parental love and care. As he travels on, "the desert buds and blossoms as the rose," "the mountains and the hills break forth before him into singing, and all the trees of the field clap their hands." It is sin in the heart, and that only, sin which should be taken away, which blights our joys, "curses our blessings," and renders the earth a land of darkness, and the shadow of death.

"If sin be in the heart,

The fairest sky is foul, and sad the summer weather,

The eye no longer sees the lambs at play together,

The dull ear cannot hear the birds that sing so sweetly,

And all the joy of God's good earth is gone completely,

If sin be in the heart.

"If peace be in the heart.

The wildest winter storm is full of solemn beauty,

The midnight lightning-flash but shows the path of duty,

Each living creature tells some new and joyous story,

The very trees and stones all catch a ray of glory,

If peace be in the heart."

Having his new birth and education in the midst of such religious ideas and sentiments as these, what can be expected of the convert but a consumptive life, a dwarfed and abnormal growth, and a sickly feebleness which fits him for the hospital rather than for field-service? And such are the masses in our churches, and here are visible and efficient causes which adequately account for such a state of things. When will Zion "arise, shake herself from the dust, and put on her beautiful garments?"

Iron Bands of Theological Dogma.

Let us now contemplate the iron bands of theological dogma, bands in which the convert so often finds himself fast bound, bands which render the normal growth of the new-born soul as impossible, as does the iron shoe that of the foot of the female infant among the Chinese. Take two or three of these dogmas as examples: "No man is able, either of himself or by any grace received in this life, perfectly to keep the commandments of God; but daily doth break them in thought, word, and deed." Thus the convert is started on his course with a professed revelation from God, that he has no power, either of himself, or from any grace vouchsafed in this life, to render the obedience required of him, on the one hand, and that, as a matter of fact, he will, on the other, every day of his life break these requirements "in thought, word, and deed." As a matter of course, he must "make God a liar," that is, discredit His revealed word, or utterly dismiss from mind and thought all expectation and rational intention to render that obedience. To aim at such obedience, in the case of one who holds such sentiments, is but to attempt and aim at a revealed and acknowledged impossibility, one of the most irrational and absurd purposes conceivable.

But what, according to these dogmas, is the state of the believer when he does sin? Listen to the answer "True believers, by reason of the unchangeable love of God and His decree and covenant to give them perseverance, their inseparable union with Christ, His continual intercession for them, and the Spirit and seed of God abiding in them, can neither totally nor finally fall away from the state of grace." Again, "They whom God hath accepted in the Beloved, effectually called and sanctified by His Spirit, can neither totally nor finally fall away from the state of grace." Thus, while the convert is assured as a revealed fact from God that he will sin, and sin "daily in thought, word, and deed," he is also furnished with an alleged Divine assurance that by no possibility, can he so sin, whatever forms of evil he may perpetrate, as to forfeit his gracious standing with God, or endanger his immortal interests. All the evil that sin in any form can do to believers is to cause them "to fall under God's fatherly displeasure," to " shut out from them the light of His countenance," and "subject them to parental chastisement," "until they humble themselves" and "renew their faith and repentance." But what sins are we taught, as a revealed truth of God, that believers may commit? "Nevertheless they may, through the temptations of Satan and the world, the prevalence of corruption remaining in them, and the neglect of the means of preservation, fall into grievous sins, and for a time continue therein: whereby they incur God's displeasure, and grieve His Holy Spirit; come to be deprived of some of their graces and comforts, have their hearts hardened and their consciences wounded, hurt and scandalise others, and bring temporal judgments upon themselves."

Such were the dogmas which, as absolute revelations from God, were distinctly put before our mind from childhood up, under the deadening influence of which we commenced our Christian course, and to which an absolute assent was required when we publicly united with the people of God.

This I affirm in the fear of God and as my absolute belief, that if it had been left wholly to the old serpent to frame dogmas and mould a religious sentiment for the education of the Lord's sons and daughters, he would not have desired or asked that one "jot or tittle" should be taken from, or added to, those under consideration. What could God do more to insure in every new-born soul a backsliding life, than to require of it an absolute belief that it will sin, sin "daily in thought, word, and deed," sin nobody knows in what form and to what extent, and that no form or degree of sin, which it can by any possibility commit, will imperil its immortal interests? If the purpose of the framers of such dogmas, and of the generators of such a religious sentiment, was to render the churches, in the language of a distinguished Presbyterian minister in the United States, "a hospital for invalids," and "a refuge for scoundrels," how could they frame a system better adapted to such a purpose than that which we have before us? It will not surprise the reader when I tell him that during the eighteen years in which I stumbled on amid the fog and miasma generated by those dogmas, I never-met a single minister or professed Christian who held such a faith who was leading a joyful and triumphant Christian life, who was not a confessed stranger to the form of experience represented by such terms as, "Out of his belly shall flow rivers of living water," "joy unspeakable, and full of glory," "I will dwell in them, and walk in them," and who was not a captive groaning under the law of sin and death.

Take two eminent illustrative examples, one from this, and the second from the other, side of the Atlantic. A distinguished American theologian, in a discourse on "The Consolations of Religion," thus writes: "And yet how stinted and uncertain the measure of happiness which even the best of Christians is able to derive from this Divine fountain! His earthly cares, his daily employments, his bodily wants and infirmities, his foolish imaginations, his anxious thoughts, his variable humours, his doubts and fears, and his unavoidable interruptions, are constantly spreading a mist around him, or gathering dark and impervious clouds over his head, which not only hide the bright shining of the Sun of Righteousness, but are well filled with lightnings, overshadowing his soul with darkness and dread. All sources of happiness, save one, are either dried or poisoned. And of that the best of Christians rather desires to taste, than actually and freely drinks." Let us now hearken to a kindred groan from a celebrated teacher of the same school on this side of the Atlantic, when speaking from the text, "Fear not, I am with thee." "Ah! my brethren and sisters, if you have come to this, and can always keep there (a state of settled peace in God), I only wish I could; I can believe in God, and do believe in Him—glory be to His name!—and have seen His arm uplifted and His faithfulness and truth displayed as few have seen; but yet that awful unbelief, that dark miasma which is the death of comfort, this worse than cholera, this pest, this infidelity, for which no excuse can be made, this most damnable of sins, this which has no foundation, for which I will not whisper even a thought of apology, this still creeps over us and unmans us. How it throws us into the mire! How it breaks our bones, and like a mighty Juggernaut car rolls over our very nature to crush it to nothing! O God, save us from it."

Thus the teachers of these dogmas are compelled to eat before the world the apples of that tree of Sodom, the tree which they have so zealously watered. Such ever have been, such are now, and ever will be, the best experiences which can arise under these death-inducing dogmas; dogmas which veil from the faith of the believer, and render indefinite and uninfluential to the mind, Christ's revealed power to save—"save to the uttermost,"—together with all the provisions and promises of grace, which specify nothing less, and nothing else, than sanctification full and complete; dogmas which impart resistless power to the love of sin in the members, by generating an absolute assurance of being overcome by it, and cut the sinews of all holy aims, purposes, and efforts, by perpetually reminding the subject that "the good he would, he will not do; but the evil he would not, that he will do."

CHAPTER V.

GROWTH DESPITE ADVERSE INFLUENCES.

IT would seem, at first thought, that with a convert ignorant as I was of the way of holiness, and all the conditions of sanctification, and born, educated, and born again, under such teachings and forms of doctrine as we have detailed in the preceding chapters, there could be no real advance in the Divine life, but a continuous backsliding. That non-growth and backsliding are the natural results of such teachings and beliefs, and their inevitable results, whenever, as is common with those who hold them, they become the leading themes of religious thought and discourse, is undeniable. Yet, as a matter of fact, it would be difficult, perhaps impossible, to determine which was the most holy person, Jonathan Edwards or John Wesley, George Whitefield or Charles Wesley, William Tennant or John Fletcher, David Brainerd or William Bramwell, Mrs. Edwards or Mrs. Fletcher, Miss Susanna Anthony or Mrs. Hester Ann Rogers, Mrs. Sarah Osborne or Mrs. Phoebe Palmer. In comparing the memoirs of these two classes, we must admit that the sky of the first class was more frequently darkened than that of the second; that the faith of the former carried heavier weights than that of the latter and that in the experience of the former there was, at times, more of servitude and less of liberty than in that of the latter, more of groaning bondage and less of all-conquering grace. Yet both classes often and equally "beheld with open face the glory of the Lord," and with equal openness of vision stood face to face with the Sun of Righteousness in His meridian glory. The reason is obvious. Our spiritual state does not depend wholly upon mere doctrinal belief, but chiefly upon those aspects of truth which mainly occupy our thoughts and regard. The two classes of individuals under consideration differed widely, in very important respects, in their theory of Christian doctrine. Yet the same truths, and the same aspects of the same truths, were to all in common the objects of supreme thought and regard, and were the determining causes of their spiritual states and character. In all in common there was an all-impressive apprehension of the infinite evil and criminality of sin, and a supreme regard for personal holiness. Above all, all these holy men and women had conscious "fellowship with the Father, and with His Son Jesus Christ," as, through the Spirit, a personally manifested presence to their minds and hearts. God was, to all in common, "their everlasting light, and their God their glory." "One day," says President Edwards, "when walking for contemplation and prayer, I had a view, that to me was extraordinary, of the glory of the Son of God, as Mediator between God and man, and His wonderful, great, full, pure, and sweet grace and love, and meek and gentle condescension. His grace that appeared so calm and sweet, appeared also great above the heavens; the person of Christ appeared ineffably excellent, with an excellency great enough to swallow up all thought and conception. I had an ardency of soul to be, what I know not otherwise how to express, emptied and annihilated, to lie in the dust, and to be filled with Christ alone, to love Him with a holy and pure love, to trust in Him, and to live upon Him, and to be perfectly sanctified and made pure with a Divine and heavenly purity."

Such manifestations were common in the experience of Mrs. Edwards and the Tennants, and others, as common as in those of Mr. and Mrs. Fletcher. One of the holiest men Scotland ever knew was Robert Annan, who died at Dundee the last day of July, 1867, losing his own life by drowning, in a successful effort to save from the same fate a lad who had fallen into the water. Let us contemplate the following fact in his experience just before his death. "On Wednesday, 24th July, 1867," says his biographer, "just seven days before Robert Annan went home, he was standing on a raft, and as he floated about he was suddenly visited with an extraordinary manifestation of God to his soul. He had long ere this attained to close, habitual, and almost unbroken fellowship with his great Redeemer; but now he was brought so near that for the time he knew not that he was in the body. The heavens seemed to open to his view. The glory of the Lord filled his soul with a radiance well-nigh insupportable. His cup was full. So near did Jesus come that he felt as if he were talking to Him face to face. So glorious did the Lord appear in His majesty, that Robert bowed his head with awe; and yet so ineffable was the love and condescension of that peerless One, that His disciple was filled with a strange overpowering joy. How long this lasted he could hardly tell, but the shaking of the raft upon the water reminded him that he was still outside of heaven. Robert spoke of this to his Christian friends, and said, 'Jesus came to me on the water, and I thought I was home.' He looked upon this blessed experience as his Master's call to go home. 'Do not wonder,' he said, to some of his brethren, 'if you hear some strange thing about me one of these days.'" "Can you get an occasional glimpse of Christ now you are dying?" was a question put to an aged Scotch saint when he was on his death-bed. "I'll have none of your glimpses now I am dying, since I have had an open look at the face of Christ these forty years gone," was the reply of the already transfigured saint. Believers who thus know God, believers upon whom "the Sun of Righteousness has thus risen with healing in His wings," and who thus "behold with open face the glory of the Lord, are changed into the same image from glory to glory," whatever their creed may be. All such bear the same image, because all in common are drawn beyond the influence of creeds into that Divine circle, where all in common move in blissful fixedness about one and the same changeless centre, "Jesus Christ and Him crucified." It is when mere doctrine constitutes the leading theme of religious thought and discourse, that the real tendency of diverse forms of belief becomes manifest. It is not by the rectification of its creed, but by an open vision of the glory of God and of the Lamb, that the soul becomes perfectly sanctified, if it has not been before, when it enters into and walks in the everlasting light of heaven. It is not through a creed, but by the "Spirit making manifest the thoughts and intents of the heart," that "the world is convinced of sin, of righteousness, and of judgment."

It was not because of their creeds that Edwards and Tennant, and Wesley and Fletcher, became the men of God that they were, but because they all in common knew God and walked with Him as a personally manifested Presence, and consequently as "their everlasting Light." Whosoever thus walks in the light of God will, in his entire character and life, "wear the image of the heavenly," and will "purify himself as God is pure."

There is scarcely any subject which all believers need more clearly to understand than the distinction between holding a truth of God as a mere doctrine, and having an inward experience of the power of that truth as a principle of life. We come, for example, upon the following passage of the Sacred Word: "Thou wilt keep him in perfect peace, whose mind is stayed on Thee because he trusteth in Thee." "Trust ye in the Lord for ever: for in the Lord Jehovah is everlasting strength." Here is distinctly unveiled to our apprehension the Divine Infinity. Suppose now that one enters upon a careful study of the Divine perfections until every attribute of the Divine Nature becomes to him an object of clear and distinct apprehension, and he is able to elucidate it to the edification of others. All is studied, however, as a mere system of doctrine, just as the same individual may have studied a system of geometry; the truth found in one system exercising no more moral and spiritual power over his heart and life than is exercised by the other. The individual is in the presence of truths, in the apprehension of which "angels adore and burn," and "devils tremble." This individual does neither. His apprehensions simply induce in him the pride of knowledge. All is to him "a ministration of death." But suppose we look again into this same passage. Here are unfolded God's Infinity and Almightiness, not merely as a doctrine, but as an omnipresent and all-persuasive motive for truth or faith. We staying ourselves on God and trusting in Him, all the resources of His infinity become available to us, and are consecrated for us, for our perfect peace, eternal safety, and the supply of all our need. We accordingly "trust in the Lord for ever," and in hopeful trust "our minds are stayed on Him." In studying the Divine attributes as mere doctrines, we are in the sphere of "the letter which killeth." In making every one of these perfections an all-constraining motive for trust, love, godly fear, and obedience, we are in the sphere of the Spirit which "giveth life."

We come into the presence of another passage: "Wherefore He is able to save unto the uttermost them that come unto God by Him." In contemplating the "all power" of which Christ is possessed, we enter upon a careful study of His perfections, until, attaining to clear apprehensions of His Divinity, incarnation, atonement, intercessory functions, &c., we are able to prove and elucidate them all. All, however, is studied and contemplated as a matter of doctrine. We are again in the sphere of "the letter which killeth," and in relations of the greatest possible peril to our immortal interests. Suppose, on the other hand, that we study the perfections, offices, and functions of Christ, as a means and condition of knowing Him, and being known by Him, "even as the Father knows Him, and He knows the Father," for the purpose of availing ourselves, in all its fulness, of the "all power" that abides in Him to "save us unto the uttermost," and of becoming and doing all that is possible through faith in His name. We are now again in the sphere of "the Spirit," where "we have life, and have it more abundantly." Such is the distinction everywhere between "the letter" and "the Spirit," between knowing God's truth as a mere doctrine and as a source of life.

A distinction equally wide and palpable obtains between "the ministration of the letter" and "the ministration of the Spirit." The preaching of not a few professed heralds of the Cross never rises higher than a simple elucidation of doctrine as such. Nor does the thought of the hearer ever rise higher than the inquiry, whether the doctrine of the discourse has been ably or feebly, clearly or obscurely, fully or imperfectly, elucidated. Nothing heard is ever thought of as a motive to a godly life. The real motive and aim of such preachers are just as commendable, and no more so, than were those of Demetrius and his co-workers in making silver shrines for Diana. This is "the ministration of the letter," and is to both speaker and hearer "a ministration of death."

In listening to other preachers, the motive and aim of the speaker become manifest in all he says and does, namely, to save souls from death, and to promote the perfection of the saints of God. No truth or form of doctrine is presented or elucidated except with this one high and holy purpose. Here is "the ministration of the Spirit," a ministration that saves both the speaker and them that hear him.

In what has been said above, there has been no intention to depreciate doctrine, or to decry the importance of discriminating between truth and error. Take away the doctrine of the being and perfections of God, and there is no Infinite and Eternal Mind for us to trust in, fear, love, and obey, or to have fellowship with. Take away the doctrine of the Divinity, incarnation, atonement, and intercession of Christ, and we have no Saviour to believe or trust in. To study doctrine as such is one thing: to have "fellowship with the Father and with His Son Jesus Christ," Whose being and perfections true doctrine expresses and represents, is quite another. In the former state, I repeat, we are in the sphere of "the ministration of death," of "the letter which killeth." In the latter we are in the sphere of "the ministration of life," of "the Spirit Who giveth life." A false creed is a death fog which veils from the face of the soul the face of "the Sun of Righteousness;" a faslse beacon light, which leads the voyager across the track of time on to the quicksands and rocks of "the second death." A creed pure and true places the soul at the base of the Delectable Mountains. If it remains there, it will die under "the ministration of death." If by faith it ascends the mount, until it stands upon the bright pinnacle, it will, even while abiding in the flesh, be transfigured and appear in glory there.

These Statements and Principles elucidated through the Facts of my early Christian Life.

Any candid and reflecting mind, in contemplating the essential doctrines and prevailing religious sentiments, under the influence of which I was born, educated from childhood up, born again, and received my primal religious culture, would conceive that my religious experience could rise no higher than, nor be diverse from, that depicted in Rom. vii. 15—24. "Carnal, sold under sin,"—"not doing what we would, and doing what we would not,"—"captivity under the law of sin in the members,"—and "groaning bondage under the weight of the body of this death," do in fact characterise, and must inevitably characterise, the experience and life of every believer whose religious thought and discourse are mainly determined by such doctrines and sentiments as those under consideration. Yet, while holding theoretically such doctrines, and encircled with such sentiments, in their baldest forms, the first four or five years of my Christian life were characterised by deep spirituality, and almost uninterrupted growth in grace. In but a single place did I spend six months, during all these years, without the occurrence of a revival of religion, of greater or less power, a revival visibly occasioned by my influence. The reason was that the main current of thought and discourse with me was determined, not by these doctrines, but by manifestations of God and His truth outside of these doctrines, and, though I knew it not at the time, utterly incompatible with them.

The reader will call to mind the manner in which I was brought to know myself as I was, my life as it had been, and my infinite criminality and hell-desert before God, namely, by a direct and immediate manifestation of God to my mind, a manifestation in which I had a direct, immediate, and absolute intuition of Him—as having from eternity "loved me with an everlasting love," as ever having been willing and desirous to save me, had I sought unto Him, as being then willing, if I would turn my face, in penitence and confession, towards the face of my God. In that manifestation I had an intuition equally absolute of the fact that I might long before have sought my Maker and Redeemer as I was required to do, and that consequently my life might have been, in all respects, the opposite of what it had been. In the light of these intuitions I had an apprehension equally absolute of my desert of eternal doom, and was led to "abhor myself, and repent as in dust and ashes." These apprehensions, directly and immediately imparted through the illumination of the Spirit of God, never left me during the years referred to. About these truths my thoughts continuously revolved, and with them my heart had direct and immediate converse. From them, consequently, and not from my creed, my spiritual character and life took form. After leaving that forest a consciously dedicated servant of Christ, and under an enduement of power the nature of which I understood not, these thoughts had supreme place in my mind: a consciousness of myself as the direct object of the infinite and eternal love of God; of the infinitude of Divine grace, not only in pardoning my sin, but in accepting me as a servant in a cause so high and sacred as the service of Christ; and the criminality and odiousness of a life utterly alienated from such infinite excellence. From time to time there was imparted to my mind a direct and impressive apprehension of the life which I had led. I would stop and contemplate with unspeakable horror the spectacle. About a year after my conversion, for example, while sitting in a family circle one evening, in the place where I was teaching school, such a view opened upon my mind. "I am horrified and affrighted," I exclaimed to a young man sitting by me, "in view of my impenitent life." Such a view rendered more and more impressive the consciousness of the infinitude of the grace and love of God, in blotting out such criminality, in permitting such a being to be "called a son of God," in taking him into service in such a cause, and in permitting him to sit with the sanctified family in "heavenly places in Christ Jesus."

A very common impression obtains among believers that a deep sense of present sin is requisite to perpetuate in the heart humility, dependence upon the grace and Spirit of Christ, and growth in Christian virtue. Such was not the experience of Paul. His Christian life ran upon the line of a "pure conscience and faith unfeigned," and of "a conscience void of offence, both toward God and toward men." Yet with what intensity of feeling does he give utterance to such sentiments as these "To me, who am less than the least of all saints, is this grace given, that I should preach among the Gentiles the unsearchable riches of Christ;" "Jesus Christ came into the world to save sinners, of whom I am chief;" "I am the least of the apostles, that am not meet to be called an apostle." The reason was, not at all the consciousness of present sin, but the remembrance of the fact that "he had persecuted the Church of God;" that his soul had been stained even with the blood of the martyr Stephen and, above all, that he had "called Jesus accursed," and had entertained the supreme desire to be eternally separated (accursed) from Christ. "The time past of Paul's life sufficed him, in the absence of the consciousness of present sin, "to have wrought the will of the Gentiles." So thought Peter. So have I found it in my own experience. The Spirit has only to open my eyes to "look unto the rock from whence I have been hewn, and to the hole of the pit whence I have been digged," to perpetuate and render increasingly impressive in my mind the consciousness that the least favour received at the hand of my God and the least place in the kingdom of Christ is "infinite grace to vileness given." The most blighting heresy that the father of lies ever introduced into a Christian creed, is the absurd dogma that in order to induce and perpetuate in God's children humbleness of mind, He must leave in the depth of their hearts an abyss of moral corruption and death, a mass of "foolish and hurtful lusts" to "war in their members." What will become of us in heaven, when we shall for ever lose the consciousness of present sin? Will not humbleness of mind disappear, and spiritual pride attain to enormous dimensions there?

The apprehensions which I had of my own impenitent life, of its infinite criminality, and of the perils which perpetually encircled me, became a mirror in which I continuously saw the condition and prospects of sinners around me, and became an all-constraining motive for prayer and efforts to save their souls from death. Two ideas were made prominent in all my addresses to the impenitent: the infinite privilege now vouchsafed to them of becoming Christians, and living and acting as servants of such a Being as Christ, and the fearful probability that, treating Him and His Gospel as they were doing, they would lose their souls.

At the commencement of a revival, when a deep seriousness was overspreading the community, I was seated one afternoon in a circle in the pastor's parlour; himself and his family, a minister from abroad, and several church members being present. To me it seemed that the conversation was less serious and less spiritual than the circumstances demanded. As I sat in deep meditation, I uttered an involuntary groan. "What was the cause of that groan?" asked the visiting minister; "and why is it that you sigh, as you so frequently do?" I had been previously told that "every such sigh let out a drop of my heart's blood." To the inquiry of the minister I replied, that I was thinking of the infinite love and grace of Christ; of the infinite interest which sinners around us have in that grace; and of the manner in which they will treat that grace when it may be presented to them, together with the infinite peril which attends such lives as they were living. "I don't wonder," replied the minister, "that such reflections induce the sighs and groans which we hear from you." An awe came over that circle, and subsequent conversation took a more subdued and serious tone than I had noticed before. Without such apprehensions, no one, as it appears to me, is, or can be, prepared at all to present Christ or His Gospel to lost men.

The view which I had of the infinitude of Divine love and grace to me, and of what my life in sin had been, induced in me a perpetual "hunger and thirst after righteousness," an insatiable desire to be free from sin in all its forms; excited instant alarm at any inward promptings of a worldward or sinward character; kept me constantly near to a throne of grace, and rendered the word of life a theme of most devout study. The natural result was growth, growth in spirituality, inward joy, and power of thought and utterance in the religious life. Commencing my religious life as a lisping infant in Divine things, I had been a Christian but a little more than four years, when I was solicited to leave my studies and become the pastor of a church. This growth was not, as I have said, through my creed, but despite its morally deadening power. Nothing whatever in the system of doctrine, in which I had been educated from childhood up, excited in me a thought, emotion, desire, or impulse, in a heavenward direction. All advance came from aspects of truth intuitively apprehended, aspects of truth outside of my creed, and wholly incompatible with it, I at the time having no suspicion of their incompatibility. During these five or six years, I held in theory the system of doctrine in which I had been educated, and was a zealous advocate of it. Throughout this period I did in fact grow in grace, and in the knowledge of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ, because the prevailing thought and all-controlling current of my soul revolved around a centre outside of that system, foreign to and incompatible with it. We have seen how, while the mind revolved about this centre, there was growth, life, peace, and "joy unspeakable and full of glory." We shall see, in the chapters next following, how, as the mind was drawn from this centre and revolved about its creed, this primal light faded out, and a darkness succeeded which was "felt."

CHAPTER VI.

PROGRESS IN DOCTRINE: CHOICE OF SYSTEMS.

AS I have stated in former chapters, the system of doctrine in which I was educated took three distinct and antagonistic forms: the old school or limited atonement and natural inability theory, the Hopkinsian or general atonement and natural ability theory, and the Divine efficiency theory, the theory of Dr. Emmons. In the school in which I was educated, each of these theories had its zealous advocates, and between them I was early necessitated to make my election, it being then assumed as undeniable that one of these systems was true, and contained the truth of God, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. That the reader may clearly understand the progress which my mind first made in Christian doctrine, it may be necessary to restate in this connection the essential characteristics of the diverse theories under consideration.

The common principle, which lies at the basis of all these systems, is the doctrine of Divine Decrees, together with that of Eternal and Unconditional Election and Reprobation. These doctrines are thus expressed in the Confession of Faith and Catechism. "God from all eternity did, by the most wise and holy counsel of His own will, freely and unchangeably ordain whatsoever comes to pass." "By the decree of God, for the manifestation of His glory, some men and angels are predestinated to everlasting life, and others foreordained to everlasting death." "These angels and men, thus predestinated and foreordained, are particularly and unchangeably designed, and their number is so certain and definite that it cannot be either increased or diminished." These are the doctrines common to all these systems and lying at their basis; doctrines which absolutely affirm and imply, that no event not eternally decreed and foreordained ever could or ever can by any possibility occur, and no event thus decreed and foreordained could or can fail to occur, or fail to occur at the specific time and in the specific form thus foreordained and predetermined, and that no man or angel not eternally elected could or can, by any possibility, be saved, and none eternally elected could or can fail of eternal life. Under this one common principle the three systems under consideration took form.

The Old School System.

According to the absolute teachings of this system, all mankind are held as deserving, and subject to, "God's wrath and curse, both in this world and that which is to come," and that for three reasons: for the one sin of Adam, an eternally decreed and immutably predetermined event; for a nature derived from Adam, a nature which, while unchanged by sovereign grace, renders it utterly and naturally impossible for them to obey the will of God, or not to commit the sins which they do commit; and for actual transgressions whose nonoccurrence was rendered absolutely impossible by the eternal and unchangeable decree of God, and the nature referred to. For the salvation of the elect, and for them only, full provisions exist in Christ, and the time and means of their conversion are predetermined, as also their preservation unto eternal life, so that not one of them can, by any possibility, be lost; while the non-elect are held subject to eternal doom for the reasons stated, and no provisions in Christ exist for their redemption. "Our first parents sinned in eating the forbidden fruit. This their sin God was pleased, according to His wise and holy counsel, to permit, having purposed to order it to His own glory." "By this sin they fell from their original righteousness, and so became dead in sin, and wholly defiled in all the faculties and parts of soul and body." "They being the root of all mankind, the guilt of this sin was imputed, and the same death in sin and corrupted nature conveyed to all their posterity, descending from them by ordinary generation." "From this original corruption, whereby we are utterly indisposed, disabled, and made opposite to all that is good, and wholly inclined to all evil, do proceed all actual transgressions." "This corruption of nature, and all the motions thereof, are truly and properly sin." "Every sin, both original and actual, being a transgression of the righteous law of God, and contrary thereto, doth, in its nature, bring guilt on the sinner, whereby he is bound over to the wrath of God, and curse of the law, and so made subject to death, with all its miseries, spiritual, temporal, and eternal." "To all those for whom Christ hath purchased redemption, He doth certainly and effectually apply and communicate the same." "The rest of mankind God was pleased to pass by, and to ordain them to dishonour and wrath for their sin, to the praise of His glorious justice."

The Hopkinsian System.

This system fully agreed with the preceding one as far as the doctrines of the decrees and election are concerned. The former, as advocated by the majority of this school, differed from the latter, in denying the imputation of the guilt of the sin of Adam to his posterity, and in affirming a general atonement for the sins of the race, and the consequent free offer of pardon and eternal life to every sinner on earth. But what, in the judgment of all its advocates, constituted the all-crowning excellence and glory of this system was the dogma, that by the Fall mankind have lost all moral, but not natural, power to obey the commands of God, and accept the grace of eternal life. By the most distinguished theologians of this school, discourses were published under the title, Mankind have NATURAL, but not MORAL, Power to break the Decrees of God. The non-elect, it was boldly asserted, have this form of power to break the decree of reprobation, and thus secure their salvation.

The Exercise Scheme.

This scheme, the theory of which Dr. Emmons was the leading representative, if not the author, agreed with that last presented in denying the imputation of the guilt of Adam's sin to his posterity. It also denied all desert of eternal doom on account of a fallen nature derived from him. It also, in common with the Hopkinsian theory, affirmed the doctrine of general atonement, and of natural ability. Man is responsible, the advocates of the Exercise Scheme affirmed, but for his voluntary choices, determinations, and acts of obedience or disobedience to the known will of God. The peculiarity which distinguished this from each of the other theories, and from all others that ever had place in human thought, is, the dogma that God, while He imputes infinite guilt to the creature for all acts of disobedience, and actually inflicts upon the non-elect eternal doom for their sins, does, by the direct and immediate exertion of His own omnipotence, originate and render necessary in creatures all their volitions, choices, determinations, and acts, the holy and sinful alike. As none would object to the doctrine of the agency in God in originating choices and acts of obedience, the supreme effort of the advocates of this scheme was directed to the verification of the fact of Gods all-efficient agency in the production of sin.

Reasons and Grounds of my Election between these Systems.

Such were the systems between which I was—by the heated discussions taking place everywhere around me, and by the conviction that one of them, to the exclusion of each of the others, must be true—necessitated to make my election. Under the pressure of this conscious necessity I set about, in all honesty and sincerity, the solution of the problem before me. In contemplating the systems, it became at once perfectly evident to my mind that one and the same difficulty was strictly common to them all; namely, the absolute necessity of all creature volitions, choices, determinations, acts, and states, whether denominated sinful or holy; and that this necessity originated first in the eternal and unchangeable decree, and secondly in the agency, direct or indirect, of God Himself. God, Who is the revealed Father of the spirits and Former of the bodies of men, must be the Author of the nature which they have derived through Adam. According to all the systems in common, "God did from all eternity freely and unchangeably foreordain whatsoever comes to pass," and "doth uphold, direct, dispose, and govern all creatures, actions, and things, from the greatest to the least, by His most wise and holy providence, according to His infallible foreknowledge, and the free and immutable counsels of His own will;" and has so "particularly and unchangeably" predestinated and foreordained elect and non-elect angels and men, that "their numbers cannot be either increased or diminished." According to the Exercise Scheme, God renders necessary actual sin in men by the direct action of His own omnipotence. According to each of the other systems, He renders the same identical forms of sin equally necessary by the fallen nature which He Himself, through the laws of natural generation, produces in them. In one case the agency of God is direct, and in the other indirect, but in both equally determining and necessary in its results, in the production of sin. If it would imply injustice in God to impute infinite guilt to men for sins which He directly originated, and rendered necessary in them, it would undeniably be equally unjust in Him to impute the same criminality to them for sins which He produces and renders necessary in them by means of a fallen nature which He produces in them through the laws of natural generation established by Himself. Besides, if it would be unjust in God to punish eternally creatures for sins which He produced in them, and rendered it impossible for them not to commit, how could it be just in Him to impute, as the Old School system affirms that He does, infinite guilt to them for a sin which they never committed at all? No objection, as I clearly saw, could be brought against the Exercise Scheme, which did not lie with equal weight against each of the others.

Then I saw with equal clearness that the distinction between natural and moral ability, on which the advocates of the Divine Efficiency and Hopkinsian systems insisted so much, was, when rightly apprehended, a senseless and deceptive distinction. The will of the creature, it was affirmed, is in its own nature equally capacitated for holiness and sin. That is, to become holy, the sinner does not need a new created will, but the right action of that which he has. For this reason natural ability to become holy was affirmed of all men. In other words, all men, the non-elect included, could become holy, accept of the grace of life, and be saved, if they should choose to do so. Nothing but their choice of the evil, and refusal of the good, prevents their salvation. But when the question is asked, "Can the sinner, in the circumstances and under the influences in and under which he does in fact choose the evil and refuse the good—can he, then and there, choose the good and refuse the evil?" "No," it is replied; "the sinner has no such power as that; that is, he is destitute of moral power to repent and turn to God." Now if in the identical circumstances and under the identical influences, in and under which they refuse the good and choose the evil, they have no power to choose the good and refuse the evil, sinners have no power whatever to obey the commands of God, and it is contradiction in terms to affirm that they have any such power.

In all the issues between this third and either of the other systems, it also soon became perfectly manifest to me, that the Scriptures most plainly and absolutely sustained the former. It is just as plainly and absolutely revealed that "Christ tasted death for EVERY man," as it is that He tasted death for ANY man; that "He is the propitiation for the sins of the WHOLE world," as it is that "He is the propitiation for our sins," the sins of believers. Then, when we stand face to face with eternal judgment, for what, and what only, according to the express teachings of the Word of God, are we to render an account? "For the deeds done in the body." Nothing else is ever referred to, when the awards of that day are set before us.

The principles of this third system, as I further clearly saw, simplified the whole subject of preaching the Gospel, and brought it, doctrine excepted, into perfect accordance with the manner in which Christ and His apostles preached the same Gospel. The revealed mission of Christ was to "call sinners to repentance," to summon them to "repent and believe the Gospel." The burden of apostolic preaching to sinners was, "repentance toward God, and faith toward our Lord Jesus Christ." So this system affirmed, doctrine aside, that the only call to be made to sinners was, to "repent and turn to God, and do works meet for repentance." After I embraced this system, I practically and strictly conformed, in preaching the Gospel, to the method revealed in the example of Christ and His apostles, and all other inspired teachers of God's truth.

It was for such reasons as the above, that I rejected the Old School and Hopkinsian theories, and adopted and became a zealous advocate of that of Divine Efficiency. It was very easy for me to silence all objections adduced by the advocates of either of the other systems designated. The doctrine was repudiated and reprobated by such individuals as a monstrous absurdity. The doctrine that God, by the direct and immediate exertion of His own omnipotence, originates and renders necessary all human volitions and acts, and then holds men as alone responsible for the same, makes Him, they affirmed, an infinite tyrant. My reply was ready. "Which is the worst form of tyranny," I asked,—"the idea that God imputes infinite guilt to creatures for volitions and acts which He, by His own agency, causes them to put forth; or to impute to them the same guilt for a sin which they never committed at all? Which," I asked again, "imputes the most flagrant tyranny to God,—the idea that He holds men responsible for volitions and acts which He directly and immediately causes them to commit, or for volitions and acts which He renders it equally necessary for them to commit through a nature which He created in them? Must not the agency of God have the same efficiency in the one case as in the other?" No advocate of either of those schemes ever attempted a reply to such questions.

But when I looked, as I could not avoid doing from time to time, at the case as it is in itself, my mind shrank back appalled at the difficulties and perplexities presented. According to the united teachings of all the systems, angels and men not elected will, at the eternal judgment, be subjected to eternal doom, for nothing else but volitions and acts and states which they could by no possibility have avoided, for volitions, acts, and states which God, by an eternal and unchangeable decree, and by His own direct or indirect agency, rendered absolutely unavoidable. As these questions would force themselves upon my mind, I would forcibly turn away from them as suggestions of Satan. There they were, however, not merely as suggestions of Satan, but of my own thoughts, and as objections urged both by men of the world and by believers in the Churches. To avoid the questions and the issues presented was impossible.

The question, How can the doctrine of eternal decrees and election, and the consequent necessity of all creature volitions and acts, be reconciled with the fact of creature responsibility for the same? has ever been the vexed question of the Calvinistic faith in all its forms. Very commonly the question has been set aside as mysterious. When all the elements of a given judgment are distinctly known and apprehended, as I then clearly saw, the element of mystery can have no place in that judgment. This is true of the case before us. The elements of the predestinarian doctrine are twofold. I. God, by His eternal decree, and by His agency, direct or indirect, renders it absolutely impossible that all creature volitions and acts should not occur, and be, and become in all respects, just what they are. 2. God holds the creature alone responsible for these volitions and acts. There is not a feature or element in either of these propositions which is not perfectly understood. If they seem to be incompatible, the reason and only reason is that they are so, and one or the other of them must be false.

The only professed attempt we ever witnessed to verify and elucidate their compatibility was essayed by our Professor of Theology, when we were in the Theological Seminary. By one series of lectures he professedly proved that all creature volitions and acts are necessary, that is, cannot but occur and be what they are. By another series he professedly proved that creatures are responsible for their volitions and acts. The last proposition was to prove and elucidate the compatibility of these two doctrines. The argument of the Professor was in these words: "We have proved these two doctrines to be true, as matters of fact. That is, these two facts do exist. That is, they exist together. That is, they co-exist. That is, they co-sist. That is, they consist, or are consistent." A majority of the class could hardly restrain the most rapturous applause when the Professor had finished his exposition. When the same argument was presented to another class the next year, a fellow-student, who afterwards, as Dr. Stearns, became Presi- dent of Amherst College, remarked to us that some of the class came out of the recitation room with their eyes standing out as large as tea-saucers. "I tell you, that will stand," they exclaimed one to another. At length the question was put to the Professor: "Does your argument consist of anything else but a series of identical propositions?" On reflection, he admitted that such was the fact. "How, then, can anything be proven or elucidated by a series of identical propositions?" The argument, I believe, was never repeated afterwards. Such abortive attempts to reconcile the palpably incompatible rendered such incompatibility more palpable to my mind.

Another cause of embarrassment with me was passages of the Sacred Word upon which my mind would fall from time to time. For example, "Wherefore, when I looked that it should bring forth grapes, brought it forth wild grapes?" God, according to the teachings of each of these systems, had, by an eternal decree, and by His own direct or indirect agency, rendered it impossible that His vineyard should bring forth anything but "wild grapes," and yet regards with wonder the fact that it did not bring forth "grapes," the kind of grapes that He had rendered it impossible it should bring forth: "Hear, O heavens, and give ear, O earth: for the Lord hath spoken, I have nourished and brought up children, and they have rebelled against Me." God, as we were taught and told, had by His own decree and agency rendered it impossible that those children should do anything else than rebel as they did; and then calls upon heaven and earth to unite with Him in astonishment at the fact, that those children had done what He had thus rendered it impossible that they should not do; as if He had placed a mass of water on an inclined plane, and then called upon the universe to unite with Him in amazement, that that water should run down instead of up that plane. Once more: "As I live, saith the Lord, I have no pleasure in the death of the wicked; but that the wicked turn from his way and live." "Who will have all men to be saved." God, according to the united teachings of all these systems, did from all eternity "foreordain to eternal death" the non-elect, and so unchangeably and specifically determined their number that it can by no possibility "be either increased or diminished;" and then, during life, subjects them to such agencies and influences that they can do nothing but sin; and, finally, withholds from them all gracious influences, by which they might be induced to turn and live. He then affirms, under oath, that "He has NO pleasure in the death of the wicked," and has no desire or will in respect to him, but that he should turn and live.

Without utter dementation I could not but have stood astounded and appalled in view of such palpable and shocking incompatibilities as these. The attempt made by the most learned theologians to reconcile such contradictions rendered these palpable incompatibilities still more palpable. The only explanation offered was this: Sin and misery are, in themselves, evils. In itself considered therefore, God desires the holiness and happiness of all, and regrets the sin and misery of any. As, on the other hand, the glory of God and the highest good of the universe require the eternal misery of the non-elect, God, on the whole, chooses, foreordains, and in His-providence brings to pass this event. Yet, God has no pleasure at all in the death of the sinner, and has but one will and choice in regard to him, "that he should turn and live;" and yet, on the whole, chooses, and therefore ordains, and renders necessary this dire event. The reader will not be surprised to learn, that during the years in which I held and advocated this system, these contradictions and incompatibilities sat as a nightmare upon my spirits. But more of this hereafter.

CHAPTER VII.

FADING OUT OF PRIMAL LIGHT,

AND LOSS OF PRIMAL JOY AND POWER:

BREAKS IN THE CLOUD: LIFE UTILITIES.

FOR at least four or five years after my conversion there was, on the whole, with intervals of clouds and darkness, an increase of primal light, joy, and power in my experience. Then the light gradually grew dim, joy became less and less full, and power was succeeded by weakness, until I knew what is meant by "the aching void within," the looking back with sorrowful regret to "the blessedness I knew, when first I saw the Lord." I recollect, with perfect distinctness, my first step out of that primal light in the direction of darkness. On my return to College, after the close of my winter's school, I found myself in a state of great physical exhaustion, consequent on excessive labours in the revival which had occurred in the school and community where I had been. At the same time I was behind my class in my studies. Such questions as these, consequently, pressed upon my mind; namely, "How can I recuperate my enfeebled health? How can I regain the ground lost by absence from College? And, lastly, how can I lead my class in present studies?" as I confess with shame I had an ambition to do. While pondering these questions, the inward purpose was distinctly formed that study now—till lost ground was recovered, and I was in the forefront of my class—should be my great concern, and that for the recovery of my health I would take much exercise, and freely intermingle in the innocent social amusements in which my religious associates engaged.

I here state as accurately as possible the secret operations of my mind at the time referred to. The result was, that while not a day passed without careful reading of the Sacred Word and secret prayer, at least morning and evening, less time than formerly was spent in these hallowed exercises, and there was more of haste, less of fervency in them. Such facts did not alarm me, because they were not wholly unexpected, and especially because supreme thought was then occupied in other directions. At length, and before I was aware,—so gradually did the light recede and the darkness come on,—"the brightness of the Divine rising" faded out into a dim twilight, which was at times so obscured as to render the darkness around me so deep as to be felt. I drew a delusive and perilous consolation from the thought that my studies, which were a necessary preparation for my future work as a minister, were in themselves incompatible with deep spirituality, and that when I should enter the Theological Seminary all would be changed. I should then find myself bathed in spiritual light, all my studies being of a religious character. Multitudes of sinners lose their souls by flattering themselves that by-and-by they will find themselves under influences which will spontaneously bear their spirits heavenward. So, many professing Christians, and candidates for the ministry among the rest, content themselves with present backslidings, low attainments, and worldly mindedness, by attributing all to present surroundings, and by promising to themselves future changes of circumstances and influences under which "their righteousness shall go forth as brightness."

This I affirm, as the result of thirty years' observation and experience as President of Colleges, that in no period of life need a student be more spiritually minded, or maintain a closer or more uninterrupted walk with God, than when in a most diligent and successful pursuit of College studies. God would not have any of His children, for a single day or hour, engage in any form of thought or activity in which they cannot be "fervent in spirit" as well as "diligent in business." "There is no work nor device," nor method of doing any work lawful to a believer in Jesus, in the diligent pursuit of which he may not "walk in the light as God is in the light." A slight departure from this sacred principle, and doing nothing but things lawful and right in themselves, but without being careful to have "ALL my work wrought in God," rendered, for years to come, "my days of darkness many," and my periods of repentings long continued and bitter. It is less difficult for an impenitent sinner to find the path of life than it is for a believer to regain the way of holiness after he has wandered from it.

Other influences combined with these to extinguish gradually primal joy, enfeeble primal faith, diminish primal power, and deepen the obscurity of the twilight which was gathering around me. Nearly one-half of the students were professors of religion and candidates for the ministry. Among these the three schools of Calvinism were fully represented, and the members of each school were exceedingly zealous for the form of doctrine which they had embraced. Hence religious thought and conversation, during my College life, took almost exclusively the form of doctrinal discussion. In the atmosphere of religious thought around us there was a continuous collision of conflicting systems, and the same issues were continuously repeated, to wit, the conflicting claims of the systems under consideration. The subject of personal holiness was but seldom alluded to. We had our Theological Society, which met once a week for the discussion of religious truth. In all our discussions mere doctrine, in its controversial aspect, was the exclusive theme. Thus the main direction of religious thought and discourse led the mind and heart further and further from their true and proper centre. Zeal for doctrine, and "hungering and thirsting after righteousness," are totally diverse spiritual states. They are not incompatible the one with the other, and when the former is duly tempered by the latter, each strengthens the other. But when doctrine, as such, becomes the leading subject of thought and discourse, zeal for doctrine not only displaces vital godliness, but wars in the members as a deceitful and hurtful lust, generating pride, contention, and every evil work. Among all the "whited sepulchres" which abound in our churches, none are more full of "dead men's bones and all manner of uncleanness" than are our doctrinal zealots.

Not only was the main drift of religious, thought and discourse in the direction of mere doctrinal issues, but of issues which had not the remotest tendency to present God to the mind as a God of love, but to deaden all our religious sensibilities. Think of the dogmas that God holds the human race as "deserving His wrath and curse not only in this world, but in that which is to come," and actually dooms the non-elect to the eternal endurance of that wrath and curse—for what? For one sin of one individual, a sin committed when they did not exist at all; for a fallen nature derived from Adam, and divinely induced through the laws of natural generation; a nature in the origination and constitution of which they had no more agency than they had in the creation of the universe; and for actual transgressions which the possession of that nature, thus divinely induced and constituted, rendered it absolutely impossible that they should not commit. Let these dogmas, as representing the essential principles of the government of God, stand between the mind and the moral attributes of our Jehovah, and necessitate it to apprehend and view the latter through the former. But one result can follow, a deep eclipse of the glory, love, grace, justice, mercy, and every moral perfection of the Divine Nature. Then think of the dogma which was held and zealously advocated— namely, that God, by the direct exertion of His own omnipotence, induces and necessitates the sins which creatures do commit, and then charges them with infinite criminality, and actually inflicts upon the non-elect eternal doom, for the sins, the non-commission of which by them He thus renders absolutely impossible! Such aspects of the Divine character and government, whenever they came directly before my mind, would sit as a nightmare upon all my moral and religious sensibilities, not unfrequently forcing upon me painful and agonising doubts as to the truth of religion itself. An increasing dimness of primal light could not but result from such influences.

I will refer to but one other leading cause of the decline of vital godliness among religious students in College. I refer to the manner in which religion itself was practically treated by the College authorities. Twice a day, morning and evening, the students were required to meet in the chapel for public prayer. The evening services were conducted by the President, or leading Professors. The morning services were, for the most part, conducted by the tutors, a majority of whom were godless men, who did not even profess to be Christians at all. One of these, for example, received his appointment at the meeting of the trustees at the close of a College year. During the subsequent vacation I met with an associate of this man, a student in a law office. "When we heard of his appointment," remarked this individual, "a jolly party of us were together in a room in a public-house, making merry over the social glass. We told him that, as a Tutor, he would be called upon to take his turn in leading the devotional exercises at College. 'That,' he replied, 'I shall never do.' 'Yes, you will,' we answered; 'and if you desire it, we will go up to the College, and hold your face for you when you pray.'" I remember well the first so-called prayer he made in the College chapel. Our class were then attending a course of chemical lectures, and the last subject which had been treated of was crude tartar. As we rose to leave the chapel after the mock service was completed, a class-mate, afterwards the Rev. Joel Parker, D.D. said to me, "That, sir, is the crude tartar of prayer." So it was, and such were the prayers we almost daily heard from those godless tutors. No one can conceive the fatal influence exercised upon the impenitent portion of the students, or the deadening effect upon those professing godliness, by such mock presentations, daily made, of our sacred religion. Had it been the fixed purpose of the College authorities to desecrate religion in the eyes of the irreligious, and render it a dead letter with the religious portion of their students, no method more perfectly adapted to this end could have been devised.

Breaks in the Cloud.

Under the influences above referred to, "the bright shining of the Divine rising" was succeeded by a dim twilight. Yet I never so far lost sight of the end to which my life was devoted as not to arrange all my studies in deliberate subordination to it. Nor did I at any time altogether suspend active labours for the salvation of souls. In connection with several others, of a spirit kirdred to my own, I organised Sabbath Schools and Conference Meetings in the destitute neighbourhoods adjoining the College, and earnestly laboured to lead sinners to Christ. I made, also, frequent visitations to the various communities where I had been instrumental in promoting revivals of religion, and pressed upon the converts and others the necessity of "holding the beginning of their confidence steadfast unto the end." My vacations, those of winter especially, I devoted, as far as practicable, to special efforts in the interests of "saving souls from death." With much intensity my heart continuously burned within me in reference to the cause of missions in home and foreign lands. Thus I was preserved from the death ways of the backslider, and was kept in a state in which I was constantly "holding forth the word of life." My lamp never went out, though for a time it shed but a glimmering light.

Life Utilities.

Having selected the ministry for life-occupancy, the question arose with full distinctness before my mind, How can I be prepared to discharge, acceptably to God, and with required utility to the Church and the world, the functions of that sacred office? Not a few candidates for the ministry seemed to regard themselves, in the progress of their education, as passive recipients of influences through which they would be moulded into "vessels meet for the Master's use." In this, as I perceived, they were totally mistaken. Self-education, with fixed reference to my sacred calling, as I saw, was the most essential and indispensable condition of due preparation. I must understand my natural gifts and adaptations, and also my natural defects and deficiencies, and by a process of self-discipline develope and perfect the former and correct the latter. For the benefit of students for the ministry, I here record some of the measures which I adopted as a means to the end under consideration.

My fixed habit of labouring in Sabbath Schools, speaking in Conference Meetings, and other religious assemblies, while I was a student in College, and in the Theological Seminary, was prompted by two deliberately entertained motives—present usefulness, and needful preparation for my future calling. It is a notorious fact that not a few of our most able and learned ministers are an encumbrance whenever they appear in the Sabbath school, and do not know at all how to edify a parlour or conference or prayer meeting. They are at home nowhere but when delivering a formal discourse before some great gathering or Sabbath assembly. One of the most popular preachers of the past generation was selected to deliver an address to the children at a large Sabbath School Convention. He commenced his address with these words "Children, religion is both objective and subjective. I propose to speak to you upon the subject from these two standpoints." This very classic and scientific introduction fully prepared the children to go to sleep, and to begin their sports by pinching each other's sides. When another such minister had concluded a similar speech, the, children were heard to say one to another, "He speaks like a fool;" the speaker having acted under the delusion that in order to interest and be understood by children, he must appear silly. A similar want of adaptation is often shown by such ministers, when attempting to speak in a conference or prayer meeting. What else could be expected from individuals, after a ten years' insulation from common religious thought and discourse, and a corresponding incarceration with the classics, mathematics, sciences, doctrines, and laws of Biblical interpretation? These are all excellent preparative helps to individuals whose thoughts and hearts are with God, on the one hand, and with the religious thought and discourse of the Church and community around them, on the other. Eight to twelve years' insulation insures a disqualification about as complete for the divinely revealed functions of the pulpit, as for those of the Sabbath school, the conference, prayer, or inquiry meeting.

The leading idea of a perfect sermon, when I was a student in theology, was its classical precision. There was a positive prejudice against illustrating truth by reference to familiar facts and events in the community and world around us. One of my class-mates, for example, in a discourse submitted for criticism before our Professor of Rhetoric, represented the sinner as borne on by an almost resistless current, with the Niagara Falls before him. The illustration was very strongly objected to as unclassical. Scylla and Charybdis should have been substituted for Niagara. I recollect the first sermon I read for criticism before the class and our Professor of Sacred Rhetoric. The discourse was written with the specific intent that it should be preached before future audiences the subject was selected with reference to a specific effect, and all the illustrations were from objects and events with which such audiences are familiar. As soon as the reading of the discourse was completed, a furious tempest of criticisms fell upon it from all directions. The plan and style of the discourse, the illustrations especially, were not classical. In those criticisms the Professor joined, giving us sage advice in regard to the fixed plan to which our discourses should conform advice which, I rejoice to record, I never followed. A short time subsequent to this, it came to my turn to occupy the pulpit of the seminary chapel on a Sabbath evening. I preached the discourse referred to, and preached it as read before the class the mass of the students, and a large gatheting from the community around, being present. For a long period after that, a leading theme of conversation among the students was that sermon, the wonder of all being the fixed attention with which it was listened to by the entire audience. It was a most profound mystery to my class-mates how and why it was that such an unclassical discourse should thus affect its auditors. During the week following, I had occasion to call upon my Professor. I found there the Principal of the Academy conversing with the Professor about that sermon. "Mr. Mahan," said the visitor, "your audience last Sabbath evening paid you a very great compliment by the fixed attention with which they listened to your discourse."

I was never censured by a Professor or fellow-student for a want of diligence in any one of my studies. I did not, however, as most of them did, incarcerate myself in those studies, but kept my thoughts, and heart, and activities in warm contact with the religious thought, and discourse, and activities around me,—a point which they sadly neglected. Hence, years passed in their pastoral experience with no visible fruits of their labours, while three months of my first pastorate had not elapsed before I found myself in the midst of a glorious revival no such work existing in any of the Churches around me. I not only found myself in the midst of such a scene, but equally at home in the pulpit, and in the conference, prayer, and inquiry meetings.

One of the chief employments of the minister of Christ is sermonising. Not a few learned preachers who are deeply read in theological and biblical lore, find it very difficult to select, from the wide field of knowledge before them, specific topics for their sermons. Mountain masses of pure gold are before them, but they do not know how to detach from the mass a fitting piece, and coin it for general use. The reason is the fundamental defect of prior training. During the revival which occurred in connection with the last school that I taught, I had occasion, as I have stated, to deliver three discourses each week of a half hour to an hour's continuance. Each discourse was from a mentally prepared plan, and, with hardly an exception, upon a subject on which I had never spoken before. While I was engaged in prayer and devout meditation, each discourse spontaneously took form before my mind, so that I was never at a loss what to say. As I reflected upon the subject, I said to myself, "Here is a habit which I must perpetuate as a means of future usefulness." I accordingly, on my return to College, induced a number of my special friends to meet with me weekly, for the purpose of reading to each other plans of sermons, our fixed rule being that each plan presented should be a newly prepared one. In those meetings our discussions were not doctrinal, but experimental. Lifelong benefits resulted to each of us therefrom. In reading the Sacred Word, as I approached a certain passage, the great truth concealed in it would spontaneously rise up, and become transfigured before my mind, and that with ecstatic effect upon my sensibilities. Whatever my employments were, I always, if practicable, stopped at once, and put down the train of thought thus suggested. As a consequence of this fixed habit of religious thought, I found myself, when I entered upon pastoral duty, already furnished with more than one hundred well-planned discourses on most important pulpit themes; and, as another result of this habit, that number of pre-planned discourses was never diminished. How often did my ministerial brethren say to me, "You are always ready for any occasion on which you are called to preach or speak." So may every candidate for the ministry find himself in all future time thus ready, if he will now form and cultivate the habit under consideration.

Cultivation of the Voice.

How often do our ministers fail through bronchial affections, and the loss of their voices, especially as they advance in life! Is this at all necessary? Do not these evils result wholly from the want of proper vocal training? Permit me to adduce two important facts bearing upon this subject.

My College class and room mate and myself each had a very feeble voice. Neither of us could, without the greatest difficulty, so speak as to be heard by any audience of two or three hundred persons. I perceived clearly that the difficulty in my case must be remedied, or my education would be a failure. Without any instruction whatever, I set about a daily exercise of vocal self-training. I ascertained, first of all, the pitch of voice from which I could speak with most ease and distinctness, and with the least effort throw my voice to the greatest distance. I then maintained, during my entire College and Seminary course, the daily habit of reading aloud from that pitch of voice. The result was, that when I entered the ministry, the strength and compass of my voice, and the ease and distinctness with which I spoke, were everywhere remarked upon by those who heard me. When I was in England in 1849-50, for example, I once addressed an audience of more than ten thousand persons in Free Trade Hall, Manchester, and with perfect ease made myself distinctly heard by that entire throng. When I returned to London, after an absence of some twenty-six years, those who had heard me before often said to me, "Your voice is now as clear and strong as it was when you were here before." Now, at the age of eighty-two years, that voice still remains unbroken. I find no difficulty in making myself distinctly heard by any audience which I have occasion to address.

But how about my room and class mate, whom I often admonished, but in vain, to do as I was doing? After completing, with the highest honours, his College and Seminary course, he found the ministry utterly barred to him by the want of a voice to make himself heard by the smallest congregations that might desire to employ him. Such was the statement which, with deep sadness, he made to me, after his education was finished. He consequently spent his life as assistant clerk or secretary in the service of a Missionary Society. Ministers would think it absurd and wicked to enter the sacred office without some mental training. Is it not absurd to attempt to speak for God and humanity with a rude and untrained voice? I never enter the pulpit without a mentally prepared discourse. Nor do I, when it can be done, without a special preparation of the voice.

Scripture and Hymn Reading.

To me one of the most painful parts of religious worship is the manner in which the Scriptures and hymns are commonly read before Christian congregations, and above all, the rapid, undevotional, and irreverential manner in which the Lord's Prayer is commonly repeated in our churches. A dinner was once given to a celebrated actor in Cincinnati, Ohio. During the conversation after dinner he remarked that he had for twenty or thirty years made the Lord's Prayer a subject of special study, for the purpose of learning how it should be recited, and then reciting it according to his own ideal. "But," he added, "I have only been able to make a somewhat near approach to that ideal." He was requested to recite the prayer, and did so. After the recitation not a word was spoken by any one present. Each individual arose and left the place in deep and solemn silence. It does seem to me, that reverence for Him who dictated the prayer, as well as the sentiments it expresses, should induce ministers of Christ to repeat that prayer with a somewhat similar impressiveness. For myself, I can say with truth that from the commencement of my ministry to the present time, no part of my pulpit exercises has commanded more deep and fixed attention from my audiences than have my readings of Scripture and hymns. I study my chapters and hymns, and ponder their meaning, just as I do my sermons, before I go into the pulpit. This I have ever held as a fixed maxim, that if my preliminary readings shall command the fixed attention of my audiences, the after exercises will be profitable; and if there is a failure in the preliminaries, the entire service will be of little account.

The three facts which I am about to state will, in the judgment of not a few, subject me to the imputation of vanity and desire of praise. My motive, as God sees it, is to "provoke to jealousy" my ministerial brethren, and, if possible, to fix the attention of candidates for the ministry upon this most important subject. A celebrated actor in the United States left the stage, taught elocution, and gave readings in various cities in the country. He was paid one hundred dollars for a single evening reading in Adrian, Mich., where I was at that time living. When we were leaving the auditorium, at the close of the exercises, one of the best judges of reading in the city made this remark to me: "I would go much farther to hear you read once more the third chapter of the First Epistle of John than I would to hear again all that I have heard this evening."

When seated in the pulpit of a ministerial friend in Cincinnati, Ohio, listening to a discourse which he was delivering, he suddenly became faint, and, turning to me, requested me to read the closing hymn, and finish the exercises. I did so, reading the hymn offhand. The next day, on calling upon another ministerial friend in the city, I was introduced to two ladies,—one of them from Brooklyn, N.Y.,—who were seated in a carriage which stood at the door of my friend's house. "What do you suppose those women were talking about when you came up?" asked my friend, as they drove away. "They were at Brother Clark's church last evening, and were talking about the manner in which you read that hymn. 'I never in my life heard a hymn so well read,' said the lady from Brooklyn; and the Cincinnati lady expressed a similar judgment." "If such reading as mine, especially in such circumstances, attracts such attention, what," I said to myself, "must be the reading of those celebrated pulpit elocutionists in Brooklyn?"

When in London, I had occasion to supply, for several successive Sabbaths, the pulpit of a pastor who was sick. A gentleman from Edinburgh attended those exercises. Before leaving, he said to a friend of mine, a leading merchant in the city, "I would any time walk three miles to hear that man read a single chapter in the Bible." Here I inwardly exclaimed again, "How imperfectly must those renowned Professors and preachers in Edinburgh read the Scriptures before their audiences!" I hardly fear a contradiction, when I affirm that the manner in which the Scriptures and hymns are, for the most part, publicly read by ministers on both sides of the Atlantic is a disgrace to the pulpit. In deep sincerity I say it, that I do not regard myself as, in the true sense of the term, a good reader; and I have always accepted with deep regret, as evidence of the deficiencies of my brethren, the marked commendations which my readings everywhere receive.

But how, it may be asked, did I become the reader I am? In the same manner, I answer, in which I came to be possessed of the voice I now have. In all my daily readings, I first put to myself the distinct question, "How should this passage be read?" To determine the appropriate answer, I conceived the thought before me as lying in the mind of an individual who was possessed of a strong desire to convey to listeners an exact apprehension of the thought, with a corresponding impression of its importance. "How," I then asked myself, "would such an individual in that state of mind utter those words?" I then conformed my reading as nearly as possible to the ideal thus obtained. I was greatly encouraged in the course I had adopted by a remark made to me by a very distinguished lawyer, a Christian man, who admired my manner in the pulpit. "Bear this in mind," he said, "that the nearer your manner of preaching conforms to earnest conversation the more perfect it will be."

When I was in England, nearly thirty years ago, this statement appeared in the London Times, that "the graduates of the English Universities, with all their boasted lore, cannot read their English Bibles." The meaning was obvious, to wit, that such graduates could not so read the Sacred Word as to represent the meaning of what they read. That statement is as true of the graduates of those Universities to-day as it was then; and is not more true of them than of the graduates of the Scotch and Irish Universities, and of those of the Universities, Colleges, and Seminaries of the United States. Let the reader bear this in mind, that while you may be greatly helped by proper teachers, you can become good readers, and have strong voices, only as Dernosthenes and Cicero became great orators, by self-training and discipline; and that every scholar is without excuse who is not a good reader, and has not a strong Voice.

CHAPTER VIII.

DISAPPOINTED HOPES: SEMINARY LIFE.

"THE kingdom of God cometh not by observation." "The kingdom of God is within you." "The just shall live by faith." "By grace ye are saved, through faith." When out at sea the attention of the voyager is sometimes arrested by the spectacle of immense icebergs, which lift their bright sunlit summits far above the surface of the ocean. These objects are never at rest, but are always moving in some definite direction, not unfrequently in opposition to that of the winds and the waves. These objects also appear to be very little affected by what is passing upon the surface of the ocean. The waters are sometimes higher up, sometimes lower down, their surfaces, and the winds and the waves often beat violently against their sides. They are never, however, lifted up or let down, or moved, or shaken, by the waters around them. Nor are they quickened, or retarded, or changed in direction by any surface influences around them. They are above and below, and independent of all visible contingencies. The reason is that while their summits are ever heaven-illumined, their lower portions have touched and sunk down into that under ocean current which is ever moving in one and the same fixed direction, and is never disturbed by what is occurring upon the upper surface. Such is the state, and life, and life-course of the true believer, who is "full of faith and of the Holy Ghost," who by the cross has been "crucified to the world, and the world to him," and who knows by experience what is really and truly meant by such words as "Christ in you the hope of glory," "That Christ may dwell in your hearts by faith, and ye be rooted and grounded in love," "In Whom, though now ye see Him not, yet believing, ye rejoice with joy unspeakable and full of glory," and "The Lord shall be thine everlasting light, and the days of thy mourning shall be ended." A mind in whose inner life such eternal verities have become consciously real, cannot be elevated or depressed by external circumstances, nor be turned from the fixed course of its heaven-directed activities. The source and cause of its peace lie too deep in the centre of the soul to be disturbed by surface events. Christ is the life of such a mind, and He is within as an all-vitalising and heaven-impelling power. Hence it never thinks of present surrounding as rendering difficult or impossible "walking in the light as God is in the light," or expects newness of life from change of circumstances. In every state in which it is, it learns how to be content, because in every state alike it finds Christ. When "Christ dwells in our hearts by faith," and we "abide in Him," all external influences are to the soul, in diverse forms, a means of grace, and all in common combine to accelerate its heaven-directed course.

Most believers, on the other hand, advance or recede, rise or fall, with the tide of events and influences around them. At periods few and far between, under a clear sky and borne forward by favouring gales, they are seen passing joyfully onward in their heaven-directed course, singing as they sail. Then, for still longer periods, they lie becalmed and powerless for any heavenward movement. Then they are driven backward or turned from their course by adverse circumstances. Then again they are "weary, tossed with tempests, and not comforted." "They go up by the mountains, they go down by the valleys; they reel to and fro, and stagger like a drunken man, and are at their wit's end." There is nothing stable in their inner life, unless it be "an aching void the world can never fill." They always think of present circumstances as incompatible with deep spirituality, and are always hoping for and promising to themselves a change of influences, under which all the Christian graces and virtues will revive, and assume forms of glorious beauty and perfection. In all such expectations they are doomed to sad disappointment. If soul life could be induced by change of circumstances, one important passage should be blotted from the sacred page, namely, "The just shall live by faith."

Such, however, is the illusion under which College life is very commonly spent. "Present studies are incompatible with deep spirituality. In the Theological Seminary all will be changed. All studies then will be religious, and a sacred and all-sanctifying atmosphere will encircle and hang over us, then and there." Vain expectation which, when painfully disappointed here, looks forward to the ministry as the golden era for the development of the Christian life, and is doomed to a still sadder disappointment. To an individual who is not "full of faith and of the Holy Ghost," no sphere of lawful human activity is, or can be, more unfavourable to deep heart spirituality, or encircled with greater temptations to pride, envy, love of applause, and worldly-mindedness, than is the ministry. All the observations of a ministerial life of more than fifty years' continuance absolutely verify such statements. "Unstable as water" must be the characteristic of the experience of every believer whose piety is determined mainly by external influences, and not "by the power of an endless life" within the soul itself. This is my solemn advice and admonition to every candidate for the ministry, and to every believer who would do effective service in the kingdom of grace: "Tarry," just where you are, "until you are endued with power from on high." Hear the absolute command of Christ: "Depart not," but, "in prayer and supplication," "wait the promise of the Father," until God's mantle of power shall fall upon you. Then, "in the power of the Spirit," go forth to your College or theological studies, or into the sacred ministry, or to any word or work to which God by His Spirit and Providence shall call you. Do this, and in every sphere of activity alike "you will shine as a light in the world," and all external circumstances and influences will combine to increase and intensify that light. Everywhere you will be girded with everlasting strength, and, "as a prince, you will have power with God and with men." Let us now turn to a direct consideration of the

Facts and Observations of my Seminary Life.

I very well recollect an impression which I received immediately after I had got settled in my room in one of the Seminary Halls. I had gone out into our long wood shed to saw some wood. I met there a number of the most influential members of the upper classes in the Institution, all perfect strangers to me. Without uttering a word myself, I listened to their conversation. There was nothing morally impure about it yet not a word fell upon my ear to indicate that I was in Bethel or Jericho among "the sons of the prophets." "Foolish talking and jesting" was all I heard, and the entire manner clearly indicated that what I heard was a visible manifestation of the inner life of those talkers. A shuddering chill came over my spirits, as I felt that what I then saw and heard foteshadowed my bitter disappointment in regard to the imagined purity and sanctifying power of the atmosphere which encircles our "schools of the prophets." Nor did anything occur during my three years' continuance at the Seminary to relieve the impressions thus early received. Never was I in an atmosphere less morally and spiritually vitalising than that which encircled us during those three years. The President of our College sent an ungodly son to the Seminary the same year I entered it. He was sent, not as a theological student, of course, but professedly to enlarge and perfect his linguistic education. The real intent of the father was the conversion of his son through the saving influence which was supposed to pervade the institution. The young man left no less ungodly than he was when he came among us; no influence encircling him, while there, which tended to any higher result. The character of the moral and spiritual atmosphere which encircled the Seminary was a topic of frequent conversation among the students, all, with one consent admitting and affirming it to have been as above indicated. "When I am out among the people in vacation," said one of the most conscientious students to me one day "when I am out among the people in vacation, I have no disposition to joke and trifle, such as commonly obtains here. I feel serious then and there. But as soon as I get back here, all my seriousness is gone in a moment, and I joke and trifle as others do"

One fact I then heard stated by not a few of the oldest and later graduates, as uniformly characterising the experience of students in their passage through the Seminary. After being there for a season, instead of finding themselves, as they expected to be, "strengthened with all might, according to His glorious power," they passed through a period in which their inner life was almost paralysed by painful and agonising doubts of the truth of our Divine religion itself. Various reasons were assigned for this very common experience, but what I regard as the true one was never stated. Happy, thrice happy was he who graduated as "strong in the Lord, and in the power of His might," as "rooted and grounded in love," as fixed in faith, and as joyful in God, as he was when he commenced his theological course.

Permit me to adduce a single fact in illustration of the above statements. More than thirty years since, when spending a period in the city of Newark, N.J., and preaching in the midst of a very powerful revival of religion, I observed among my hearers, upon a Sabbath, a very intelligent-looking stranger, who listened with the deepest attention to all I said. Having occasion, the next morning, to be absent from the city for a few hours, on a visit to the family of a brother-in-law, Professor Strong, at New Brunswick, I found in the same car with myself this stranger. As soon as he saw me, he came and sat by my side. "I listened," he remarked, "with deep interest to the three discourses which you delivered in Newark yesterday. What struck me as especially peculiar about your discourses was the ease and freedom with which you spoke, all your discourses being extempore. Your discourses were perfectly systematic. There seemed to be a predetermined place for every thought, and every thought was in its place. Yet all your utterances were so free and spontaneous, like the outgushing of the waters from the rock when Moses had smitten it. In a few weeks I expect to graduate at the Theological Seminary at Princeton. This I confess to you, that I now find myself less free and less able to speak to edification in a prayer or conference meeting, or to any common religious assembly, than I was at the commencement of my theological course; and I approach the ministry with a painful disqualification for many of its most important functions. In respect to most of my public speaking, I am necessitated to speak from notes previously written out. And such I find to be the uniform and confessed experience of my fellow-students in all the classes. These facts we often confess to one another with deep regret. Is there any remedy for such evils? and if so, can you tell me what it is?" Such was the exact substance of the statements made to me by that student-stranger.

In my reply, I first referred to my own fixed habit, as a college and theological student, of mingling with the churches, and speaking in Sabbath schools, conference and prayer meetings, and holding special services in destitute neighbourhoods around; and advised him to urge upon all students in the lower classes to follow such an example. But what all must do is this, to "tarry" before God "in prayer and supplication," until "endued with power from on high," as the apostles and their associates were at the Pentecost. Then will the truth of God be in the heart "as a burning fire shut up in the bones," and "witnessing for Christ," and "speaking in the churches," and "unto men to edification, and exhortation, and comfort," will be as easy, and spontaneous, and vitalising as was the outflow of the waters from the rock referred to.

Let us now direct attention to the

Causes of the spiritual State of our Theological Institutions.

I have already referred to the expectation with which students uniformly approach such institutions, the expectation of finding them encircled with such a pure and sanctifying atmosphere, that the moral and spiritual activities will spontaneously assume a new and divinely vitalised direction; and have shown that through this expectation content with an unspiritual College life had been induced. Here we have the common mistake in religion, and its inevitable results. The mass of Christians expect sanctification, as far as they expect it at all, rather through external influences than through Christ dwelling in the heart by faith. In heaven itself, they seem to expect to be made holy rather by sight-seeing than by the indwelling presence and power of the Holy Ghost in the soul. Now, as long as higher spiritual states are expected from change of circumstances, and not sought by faith, all changes will be for the worse, and not for the better; and the ministry will be the most spiritually barren of all spheres of activity. We here find the real cause not only of the spiritual state of very many theological institutions, but of the periods of painful doubt of the real validity of the claims of Christianity itself. The student not only finds the atmosphere of the Seminary the opposite of what he anticipated, but finds all his efforts for the higher forms of life fruitless and vain. The result is a reaction, a moral and spiritual repulsion, in which the foundations of his faith seem to be falling away beneath him. Hence the period of painful doubt referred to.

Another, and a main, cause of the low moral and spiritual state under consideration was, the very limited apprehensions which then obtained in regard to "the grace of God which bringeth salvation." Apprehensions of Christ, as a Saviour from sin, were confined almost exclusively to the sphere of justification. Outside of this sphere, the great truth, "The just shall live by faith," was a dead letter at that time. The doctrine of "sanctification by faith" was not "so much as named among us." We heard nothing of it from the pulpit, or in the class-room, or among ourselves. Still less, if possible, did the doctrine of "the baptism of the Holy Ghost" have any place in the sphere of Christian thought in which we moved. The Pentecost, with all its moral and spiritual enduements of power, belonged to the apostolic age; to us nought remained but a dreary pilgrimage over that bog, that swamp of legalism described in Rom. vii. 14—25. This, as we were taught by all our Professors but one—and he differed from his associates only in the interpretation of this one passage—represents Christian experience in its best estate attainable in this life. Speaking upon this subject, the venerable Dr. Woods said to us one day: "If there were somewhere a hospital in which souls could be made whole, I should go there as a patient." Thus ignorant were all in common of "the fountain opened for sin and uncleanness," and of "the rising of the Sun of Righteousness with healing in His wings." In College we expected healing and health from the vitalising atmosphere which encircled the Seminary; and in the Seminary, from that which encircled the ministry. In neither sphere did we find either healing or health, but increasing feebleness under the pressure of "the body of this death."

Finding at length that I was being changed, not "from glory to glory," but from weakness to weakness, I said to myself, "I know that I have missed my way;" and I waited before God, in the devout study of His Word, and in fervent prayer, until I found myself in the presence of the "fountain opened," and of the unveiled face of "the Sun of Righteousness." When God's Spirit brought me here, with joy unspeakable I exclaimed in these very words, "There is healing here." Yes, here is the spot where every soul may be "made every whit whole."

I refer to but one other, and to this as the chief cause of the low state of spirituality in our Theological Institutions. A Theological Seminary, surely, should be and may be "holy ground," "the house of God," and a "gate of Heaven." Here is the sacred sanctuary that stands next to that "most holy place," "the Ministry of Reconciliation." No man, however learned, is at all qualified to teach, or to study, God's truth, who is not "full of faith, and of the Holy Ghost." "No man can say that Jesus is the Lord, but by the Holy Ghost." How, then, can any man teach and study, as required, God's truth, but upon the condition that "the eyes of his understanding are enlightened," to discern and "know the things which are freely given us of God?" "The things of God knoweth no man, but the Spirit of God." "The Eternal Spirit," Who inspired the Word, must be an expositor of its teachings, and of the truth it reveals, or we shall never, in the highest sense, understand what we read, teach, or study. Truth, as apprehended by any mind not Divinely enlightened, is "a dead letter." When "spiritually discerned" and taught, it becomes transfigured before the inner vision of the teacher and pupil, and acts upon the mind and heart of each with an all-vitalising power. No truth of God stands revealed in the Sacred Word but as a means to one and the same end, a saving and sanctifying effect upon the heart and mind of the reader; and no such truth is rightly apprehended or taught, but when it is so set forth as thus to act upon the mind.

When I affirm, that Divine truth, in all its forms, may and should be thus taught, "I speak what I do know, and testify what I have seen," as a teacher of theological students. The work on the Baptism of the Holy Ghost, for example, has been read by ministers and laymen not a few, among all Christian nations, and by many missionaries in foreign lands. The moral and spiritual influence of reading the work is "known and read of all men." I will venture to give a single fact as illustrative of such influence. A lady in Scotland sent some of these volumes to a Christian soldier in India. I have before me the letter written by that soldier to this lady some time after the books were received. "I take this opportunity," he says, writing from "Camp Kohat," March 17th, 1879, "before leaving this camp, to let you know that I received the books all right. Thank God for bringing them safe to us: for I can assure you, dear sister, they have been blessed to our souls very much. They have made us more earnest in praying to the Lord for His Holy Spirit to descend upon us. All the brethren have been at me, begging me to let them have a reading of them, and they are loud in their praise to God for the glorious truths they have revealed to us. We are like new creatures in Christ Jesus. Since we got the books, we are agreed as one in praying to God for the Higher Life; and we seem to be blessed more and more each time we pray for the Spirit." "We have been some time in this camp, and we have had a meeting each night, and the Lord has blessed us richly." Now every discourse in that book, two or three of the last excepted, was prepared and delivered as a part of a regular course of theological lectures to a class of theological students, and was sent to the publisher just as prepared and delivered. Such was the effect of these discourses, at the time of their deliverance, upon these students, that the entire institution was immediately flooded with revival influence. At another time I delivered, before the same class, a course of lectures on the Natural and Moral Attributes of God. No other course I ever delivered, on any subject, was more scientifically developed than this. The effect of these discourses was distinctly manifest in all our prayer meetings. "Never before," a theological student would be heard to exclaim, "did I have such an apprehension and impression of God, as I now have. He seems to be more near and real to me than is the atmosphere in which I move and which I breathe."

I simply state these facts, not for self-glory, but to render it evident that Divine truth, whether exegetically or doctrinally presented, never is, and never can be, rightly presented, but when the natural and uniform result is to bring the pupil upon his knees. A teacher of a class of candidates for the ministry, who is not himself "full of faith, and of the Holy Ghost," and does not so teach that the faith of his pupils shall stand, "not in the wisdom of men, but in the power of God," is doing more than any other individual can do, to send men who are "not spiritual, but carnal," into the sacred office.

But how was God's truth taught in our Seminaries?

In the first place let me remark that our studies were divided into four distinct departments—Biblical Interpretation, Theology, Ecclesiastical History, and Sacred Rhetoric—one Professor standing at the head of each department. This was considered the fixed law of the institution, that each Professor should confine himself strictly to his own department, and so teach as not to intrude into that of the others. The Biblical Professor, for example, was to confine himself to a simple interpretation of the text without reference to the doctrine which the passage implied, and in reality set forth. So the Professor of Theology, in expounding doctrine, avoided any but the most incidental reference to the principles of interpretation. Sermonising had no place in our thoughts, until, at the commencement of our third year, we came before our Professor of Sacred Rhetoric. Here was a fundamental mistake. The pupil is merely carried over the upper surface of a passage, when he is not made to look down into the depths, and up to the heaven-illumined heights, of the great truth which such passage reveals. Whenever, in the progress of interpretation, any such truth is approached, the fact should be, to professor and pupil, a landing-place from whence there should be a distinct survey of "the length, and depth, and breadth, and height," of the glory infinite with which that truth is encircled. The pupil should be clearly taught not only what that truth is, but how to interpret and employ that passage to verify that truth. He should then be reminded of kindred passages which affirm and verify the same truth, and should be guarded against employing other passages which have been supposed to, but do not, verify such doctrine. A surface interpretation of Scripture renders the Word of God a dead letter. And such, for the most part, were our Biblical studies to us. The real interpreter is, not a systematic, but a real, teacher of doctrine; and the real Professor of Theology is a systematic Biblical interpreter, always showing his pupils how to apply the laws of interpretation in the elucidation and verification of Christian doctrine. It was the absence of these essentials to vitalising teachings that rendered our Biblical studies, not only barren of spiritual influence, but in reality a " ministration of death."

From the Biblical Class Room, we turn now to that of Theology. Here systematic theology was studied as we had studied our system of geometry, or mental science; that is, as a mere matter of doctrine. Standing by itself, as a mere question of truth or error, what moral or spiritual bearing, for example, has the doctrine of the Divinity of Christ? No more, we answer, than has the great fact, that the sun is the centre of the solar system. The same holds true of the doctrine of the Trinity, and all other kindred doctrines. This question was once put to a great American statesman: "Do you believe such doctrines as the Trinity, and the Divinity of Christ?" "I do," was the reply. "None but an Almighty Saviour can meet my wants as a sinner." When we contemplate Christ,—as manifested to "take away our sins"—as our "wisdom, righteousness, sanctification, and redemption"—as our "Advocate with the Father"—as "Lord of all," and "Judge of quick and dead," then the question, whether He is finite or infinite, whether the "Word was God," or a creature like ourselves, becomes one of infinite and all-impressive interest to our minds. Viewed as a mere doctrine, the question has, in reality, no moral and spiritual bearings whatever. It was as doctrine, that every truth of God was set before us in the Theological Class-room. We solved our problems of theology as we had done those of geometry, when in College, and with no more seriousness or reverence in the one case than in the other. With the most painful interest the question often came home to my mind: "How can individuals reverentially set before the people truths which they have so irreverentially studied in the school of the prophets?" In thus studying God's truth, the pupil not only receives a moral and spiritual paralysis in his inner life, but becomes habituated to cold and unvitalising apprehensions and presentations of God's eternal verities to the Church and the world. Such facts will sufficiently account for the moral and spiritual atmospheres which too commonly encircle our Theological Seminaries.

CHAPTER IX.

PASTORAL OFFICE AND LIFE.

AFTER more than two years spent in preparatory studies, four years of College, and three of Seminary life, and one year in agencies and miscellaneous ministerial duties, I found myself in a new and untried relation, that of a pastor over a "flock of God," an "angel" of a church of Christ. In my distinct regard the office was a most sacred and responsible one. Before me, and around me, were a congregation and people made up of two classes,—the non-professors, or impenitent class; and the nominal church, one portion of whom were obviously self-deceived, and the other made up of true believers. Towards each of these classes my duty was obvious, and stood out with perfect and impressive distinctness before my mind. My chief functions, as a preacher of the everlasting Gospel, as I clearly and distinctly saw, pertained to the moral consciousness of my hearers; that is, by "the manifestation of the truth" I was to "commend myself to every man's conscience in the sight of God."

To the impenitent portion of my people my mission was, so to preach the Gospel to them as to induce among them "repentance toward God, and faith toward our Lord Jesus Christ." This end I was to accomplish, not as it is too often attempted, by simply telling them that they were sinners, and then arraying before them the terrors of the Second Death. My mission, on the contrary, as I distinctly apprehended, was so to present the truth that it should be "a discerner of the thoughts and intents of the heart," that is, so to reveal to the sinner his real interior and exterior life that he should be self-convicted of his sin, of his desert of doom, and dire need of atoning grace, and thus be led to Christ, as "the only Name under heaven given among men whereby we can be saved." As the result of thus preaching the Gospel, I can now testify, that among the many thousands who have been professedly converted under my preaching, very few have apostatised from the faith. Indeed, I cannot recall the case of a single such convert who joined the church and was afterwards excommunicated.

In respect to the nominal membership of my church, I felt distinctly pressed down with responsibilities of infinite weight. My mission here was so to "take forth the precious from the vile, that I should be as God's mouth;" that is, so to present the essential characteristics of heart and life, the characteristics by which the genuine is distinguished from the self-deceived professor, that no one within the circle of the nominal fold should die in his sins, and his blood be not on his own head. There was no portion of the ministerial functions which pressed with greater weight upon my conscience than these, it being quite evident to every serious mind that not a few of those who have "a name to live are dead," and "their hopes at last will be as the giving up of the ghost." It was a source of deep consolation to me, on occasion of preaching a discourse before the church of my former charge in Cincinnati, to hear that this was said by my former hearers: "One thing is certain, that our old pastor has not lost the power or the habit of clearly discriminating between a living and a dead faith." By no possibility can an individual be in greater peril to his immortal interests than is the deceived professor of religion. Nowhere will the true pastor cause the true light to shine with greater clearness than upon the line which divides the living believer from "him who is dead while he lives."

But the most sacred and vital of all the functions of the ministry, as I then most distinctly and impressively apprehended, consisted in feeding Christ's lambs and sheep, in "feeding the flock of God, which He had purchased with His own blood;" in "building up the true believer in the most holy faith," and so instructing and leading him that he should "grow up into Christ in all things." The revealed object of His death, as I even then distinctly read, was to "redeem" believers "from all iniquity, and purify them unto Himself, as a peculiar people, zealous of good works;" to "sanctify and cleanse His church"—all true believers—"with the washing of water by the word, that He might present her to Himself a glorious Church, not having spot, or wrinkle, or any such thing; but that she should be holy, and without blemish." The revealed object, as I then read, for which pastors and teachers are appointed, is "the perfecting of the saints, for the work of the ministry, the edifying of the body of Christ, until we all come, in the unity of the faith, and of the knowledge of the Son of God, unto a perfect man, unto the measure of the stature of the fulness of Christ;" and the revealed motive of the minister, in all his services, must be, to preach Christ, "warning every man, and teaching every man in all wisdom; that we may present every man perfect in Christ Jesus."

To make any approach towards such high ends, two things, as I then saw, were indispensable. In the first place, the pastor himself must be, in his interior and visible life, an "epistle" of Christ, "known and read of all men," and especially of the flock he feeds, so that he can say to the church, "Be ye followers of me, even as I am of Christ;" and, "Those things which ye have both learned, and received, and heard, and seen in me, do and the God of peace shall be with you." In the second place, he must himself be so instructed in the way of the Lord that he shall be able to teach believers how to walk in the King's highway.

But my sphere of thought and influence, as I distinctly perceived, was not by any means confined to the circle of my local church or parish. I stood, under the eye of God, and before the world, as a minister of a great denomination and a member of the great brotherhood of saints. I also sustained other relations, as a citizen of a great commonwealth, and a member of the brotherhood of man. In all these relations vital issues pertaining to doctrine, moral principle, church order, and nation and world interests, were then pending. The great missionary and other benevolent movements, which constitute a leading characteristic of this age, were then coming into full operation. The Calvinistic denominations, with which I stood connected, were then agitated and convulsed with doctrinal issues, questions of church order, and methods of conducting revivals of religion. The great revivals which constitute the glory of that period stood openly connected with important questions of doctrine, and the proper methods of conducting revivals. The issues pressed in these revivals were the chief, if not exclusive, cause which occasioned the division of the Presbyterian Church. At this time, also, the national mind began to be violently agitated with the question of human rights, temperance, and other kindred issues. My natural temperament, and all my convictions of duty, rendered it impossible for me, not only not to be a neutral or inactive spectator in the midst of such movements, but also not to be an active participant in the same.

Such being the circumstances and relations in which I entered upon the duties of my public life, I felt that an early settlement of the principles and motives to which my future should be conformed was most imperiously demanded. To the distinct and deliberate settlement of such principles, my mind was early and specifically directed; and I did not rest until they were fully and finally determined. This subject I commend to the serious and prayerful attention of every believer, and of every minister and candidate for the sacred office. Action, to be truly moral, religious, and acceptable to God, must be deliberate and self-reflective, and conformed to right principles and intentions. For the intellectual, moral, and spiritual benefit of any of the above designated classes, under whose eye these pages may fall, I will now state some of those early formed and sacred principles and maxims to which my subsequent life has been most carefully and conscientiously conformed.

Early formed Life Principles.

I. As a preacher of the everlasting Gospel, I deliberately and prayerfully fixed upon this as the single and changeless aim and intent of my life, in the selection of subjects to be treated of, and in the preparation and delivery of every discourse which I should ever utter under any circumstances whatever, namely, the highest possible moral and spiritual benefit of my hearers.

Another element of the purpose formed was this, that my discourses, as far as practicable, should have a fixed adaptation to insure the repentance of the impenitent, the salvation of the self-deceived professor, by revealing to his consciousness his moral and spiritual state, as it was, and the edification of the true believer. I set it down distinctly and deliberately in my mind, that the preparation or delivery of a single discourse with a controlling reference to applause, popular favour, or gaining a place, involved awful criminality, and the greatest peril to my immortal interests. Such was my deliberately formed principle of action; and my conscience acquits me of ever having, in a single case, knowingly departed from that sacred principle. This was my purpose, to throw all the energies of my being into the preparation and delivery of every discourse for the ends referred to, and that whether my congregation should be great or small. If—I deliberately, in the secret of my soul, said—public favour and advancement should accrue, while I should act in absolute subordination to such a principle and motive, the award would be received with thankfulness; if disfavour and diminution should accrue, I would look for my reward from the arbitrament of another tribunal, where every man will be awarded according to his deeds.

2. The question, "What shall be my field of labour?" the question whether my church and parish shall be large, wealthy, and influential, or small, poor, and not highly esteemed, often occupies ministerial thought. My own deliberately determined principle was this: to leave it wholly to Providence to determine my field of labour, and to be content with that allotted to me. In whatever field I might at any time be located, whether that field were great or small, influential or uninfluential, I would put forth my best possible energies to render that place "holy ground," "a garden of the Lord," upon which God and heaven should delight to look. Acting, with singleness of purpose, upon this sacred principle, I could, with perfect quietness and assurance, leave the present and the future to Providence.

3. With the same deliberation and definiteness were my principles of judgment and action thus early determined in respect to all questions of doctrine, Church order, and measures; and with regard to all questions of human rights and public weal; questions which might arise outside of my immediate charge. The principle settled upon was this: Every such question should be determined, not at all with reference to what is popular, or to what is approved within the circle of my sect or party in Church or State, but with a simple reference to what is true, right, and just in itself, and to what the permanent interests of the Church and the public demand. By a steady and inflexible adherence to such a principle, I should not, in all probability, as I clearly saw, be well adjusted to popular favour. I should, however, with perfect certainty, assure that upon which I placed an infinitely higher estimate, the full approval of my own conscience, and the smile of God. Acting upon such a principle insures ineffable mental freedom. There is no jar in the action of the interior faculties, no breaking of the internal machinery. It may be well to stop here for a few moments, and consider some of the—

Fruits of a Ministry Conducted upon such Principles.

I. While the churches to which I ministered shared, without exception, very largely in the general revivals which prevailed from time to time, and while we had more frequent revivals than the churches around us, there was ever a constant ingathering of souls under the ordinary ministrations of the word. Our communion seasons occurred once in two months. It would be a quite noticeable fact if any such occasion should pass, and no additions be made of converts from the world. Not a few of the most important and influential converts were gathered in when no revivals existed anywhere around. I give two facts in illustration, facts which occurred during my pastorate in Cincinnati. A lady in the city joined my church by letter. Her husband was a talented and educated man, but an avowed and decided infidel. One Sabbath evening in Midsummer, he was induced, in company with his wife, and a gentleman and his wife, who had taken tea at his house, to attend the services at our place of meeting; special revival influences nowhere, at the time, existing in the city. In listening to one of my ordinary discourses, the veil was taken away from the heart of the unbeliever. Soon after he became a decided convert, united with the people of God, and to the day of his death was a marked "epistle of Christ, known and read of all men" in that city. All Cincinnati was moved when they heard of Dr. Peck's death, which occurred by accident on a railroad.

At one time, when I was in attendance, as fraternal delegate from the General Association of Michigan, at the annual meeting of that of Ohio, the fraternal delegate from the Association of Indiana, in presenting his greetings, made the following personal statements in regard to himself: "When a thoughtless and impenitent young man, I had occasion to visit and spend a night in Cincinnati. In the evening, as I was walking out sight-seeing, I observed a light, and a gathering of people, in a hall near the street where I was passing. I felt an almost irresistible influence impelling me to go in and witness the exercises. I did so. I found myself a listener to the weekly lecture of the pastor of the church and congregation worshipping in the place. As I listened to the discourse, my character and condition as a sinner, and the way of life through Christ, were made impressively plain to my mind. I then and there yielded to God my heart, and left the place a new creature in Christ Jesus. To that one discourse I owe, instrumentally, my salvation, and place in the ministry of reconciliation." Then, turning to me, he added, "I think I see before me the father in Christ who delivered that discourse."

I have ever held, such also has been my experience, and such, as I read, are the express teachings of inspiration, that the Gospel may be, and should be, so preached that everywhere there shall be a constant current from the world into the Kingdom of God. "If they had stood in My counsel, and had caused My people to hear My words, then they should have turned them from their evil way, and from the evil of their doings." "Is not My word as a fire? saith the Lord; and like a hammer that breaketh the rock in pieces?" For myself I never occupied the post of pastor over any church and congregation, for the space of three years, without the membership of that church being nearly or quite doubled. For about the period designated, I occupied the place of pastor of the then Sixth Presbyterian, now the Vine Street Congregational, church in Cincinnati, Ohio. I commenced labours there August 29th, 1831, and resigned May 1st, 1835. When I assumed the work of pastor, the members of the church, who lived in the city and worshipped with us, numbered sixteen. To every one of these I was an entire stranger, having never been in the State of Ohio, until I took my journey to that city. During all these years we worshipped in a hall, and a very plain one it was. Yet, during all this period, there was a constant ingathering of souls. In the year 1834, according to the Church Manual just received, "seventy-two were added on profession." Near the close of the preceding year, between thirty and forty had been thus received, upwards of one hundred being added during a period of about eight months. At this period, there were no revivals of any special account in any of the churches around us. The following fact will demonstrate the character of these converts, and of this church generally. When the membership numbered one hundred, not only were my salary and all other necessary expenses promptly paid, but, as officially reported to Presbytery, the contributions of this "little flock" to the various benevolent societies averaged upwards of twelve dollars per member. Nor has this church yet lost its primal character. The Manual referred to contains the following extract from a discourse delivered by its then pastor, Rev. C. B. Boynton, D.D., January 7th, 1877: "After so many years of varied experiences, here stands Vine Street Church today, not weaker, but stronger; not despised, but respected for her firm defence of the right; stronger than ever, encumbered with no debt, and ready, if baptised with the Holy Ghost, for still nobler work."

Efficacy of Prayer and Pastoral Care.

The second year of my pastorate in Cincinnati was the first era of cholera in the United States. In less than one year and a half, out of a population of about forty thousand, we buried upwards of two thousand five hundred of our citizens, who had died from this one disorder. One of our chief employments was tending the sick, and "burying our dead out of our sight." No pestilence, I believe, ever inspired such terror, as the report of it came from the old countries, as this did; and during the first months of its prevalence more probably died from terror than from the immediate effects of the disease. As the pestilence approached, the churches of the city held a day of fasting and prayer. My own people, in addition to this, held a special day, on our own account. For myself, I took the greatest pains to inform myself of the indications of the approach of the disorder, of the counteracting measures to be adopted, and the remedies to be applied. In all these matters I fully instructed my people, urging them to a prompt and full preparation for whatever might occur, and to a peaceful committal of their mortal and immortal interests to the Divine care and keeping. I also visited, conversed, and prayed with, every family of my church and congregation, giving them such instructions and admonitions as each case seemed to require; urging particularly the promptest action the moment the first indications of the presence of the visitation should appear. The result was, that but one individual in my church and congregation was known to have died from that visitation. This individual was a man somewhat advanced in years, and was believed, by his friends, to have been in a state of incipient derangement. He openly ridiculed all that was done to prepare for the event, recklessly disregarded all counsels and admonitions, and, when the disease was upon him, obstinately refused to have a physician sent for, until a few hours before his death. Had this man heeded advice, it is probable that not a single death would have occurred in that church or congregation from that pestilence; although its earliest victims were almost exclusively members of churches, of wealthy families, and individuals of temperate habits. For a time, it was the open boast of the wicked and profane, that the pestilence confined its ravages to the classes named, and passed by the intemperate, the vicious, criminal, and poor. When it descended to these classes, however, it "swept them away, as with a flood."

A Remarkable Providence.

One event connected with this visitation I will here record. In mid winter, it being severely cold at the time, and not a case of cholera having occurred in the city for months previous, as I went out one morning, I noticed a strange stillness in all directions, and a deep seriousness upon every countenance I met with. Stepping into a book-store owned by two of my elders, I inquired the cause of such appearances. "Have you not heard of what has occurred during the night?" "No." "Why, the cholera is in all parts of the city. Numbers are dead already, and the sick and dying are all around us." During that night, after most of the people had retired to their beds, the visitation came. Many awoke to find themselves either dying, or under the incipient power of the destroyer. Of those who then fell sick, not a few died. But after the rising of that morning's sun, no new attack of the disease was known to have occurred. Twenty or thirty years after this, that ever memorable night was referred to in one of the Cincinnati dailies. No visitation of Providence I ever knew rendered the minds of the people so susceptible to religious impressions as this.

An Illustrative Incident.

I have referred to a life principle, in conformity to which I had determined to put forth my best possible efforts in any field where, for any period, my lot might be cast. In my early ministerial labours, I had commenced work in the city of Rochester, with the expectation of organising a new church there. Just as the organisation was being effected, I was suddenly stricken down by an attack of inflammatory rheumatism in both knees and ankles and my left wrist. Soon my knees became so stiff that my limbs could not be straightened out. In this state, with my flesh wasted to an almost skeleton condition, I was conveyed to my father's residence where my youth had been spent. I found the church and congregation there in a perfectly dilapidated condition, a most calamitous pastorate having just terminated. The dissolution of the church and society, and the disposal of their house of worship to another denomination, were talked of. Emaciated and almost helpless as I was, I raised the question, "What can I do to repair these desolations?" I proposed that the people should convey me in a chair, at the time of the Sabbath services, to their house of worship, which was near my father's residence, and there listen to me, whilst, thus seated, I should speak to them, as I was able, the "words of this life." For about three months I thus continued to serve them; and when I was able to commence labours as pastor elect of the Congregational Church in Pittsford, near Rochester, I left Orangeville, the place above referred to, with a new and faithful pastor elect upon the ground, and, what was of infinitely more importance, with a gracious revival of religion in actual progress, a revival which resulted in gathering into that church almost the entire society. For the amount of the population, that was one of the most powerful revivals known in the United States. Among the converts was my aged father. He had professed religion from my childhood, but was manifestly a total stranger to the grace of God. Becoming fully aware of this, at the time of my conversion, I never, for some twelve years subsequent, prayed in secret without distinctly remembering that father. Thus this great affliction became one of the most fruitful periods of my life. If we will but have grace to be always ready to do the work given us to do, God will never err in selecting our field of labour.

Issues Outside of the Circle of Pastoral Duty.

The principles of thought and action which I early adopted, and to which I have before referred, very soon after my entrance upon public life, brought me in contact with great issues of denominational, church, national, and world interest; a contact which, of necessity, rendered me, with a disposition which naturally shrank from such collisions, "a man of war from my youth." I had a nature so delicate that I would never stand by and witness the dying agonies of a beheaded chicken or slaughtered animal, or witness an act of slaughter, if I could avoid it. Equally reluctant was I to wound the feelings of any human being. I was naturally as selfish and full of sin as any other person. My temperament was, also, very ardent, and as irascible as it was tender and delicate, and so impulsive that I could not see error without exposing it, or apprehend a truth without manifesting it. No man, as it seems to me, was ever possessed of a nature more strangely self-contradictory and unmanageable. With such a conglomeration of contradictory dispositions and temperaments, I was thus early, and without my choice, drifted into the very centre of the great issues and collisions of those agitated times. When, for example, at the age of thirty-five years, I received my appointment as President of Oberlin College, I found myself, with no seeking of my own, at the head of an institution which, as I well knew, would attract universal attention, and which had more points of open and aggressive contact with an old-established and embittered church, public, and national sentiment, than ever before existed. The principle of the joint education of the sexes in colleges and universities was a most offensive innovation, never before heard of. Permit me here to say that did I know, what I devoutly hope will never be, that a monument was to be erected to my memory, and were I requested to furnish for it an epitaph, this would be one of its prominent items, that I was the first man, in the history of the race, who conducted woman, in connection with members of the other sex, through a full course of liberal education, and conferred upon her the high degrees which had hitherto been considered the exclusive prerogative of men.

But the great offence of the College was, that, at such a time, it should set its doors wide open, and that publicly, for the education of mind, rational mind, and that irrespective of all conditions and relations of sex, race, or colour; that the Institution should thus unveil itself before the world, as the equal and impartial friend of human nature. Such a position was considered an open insult to the fixed usages of the churches, of all our great institutions of learning, and of the changeless sentiment of the nation.

But when the startling fact stood out in broad relief before the Church and the world, that brother Finney and myself had adopted views of faith and doctrine at variance with the long settled and cherished belief of the churches and denominations to which we had formerly been affiliated, and when it became evident that our views would be received by multitudes in all the churches, then we knew what the apostle meant when he said, "We are made as the filth of the world, and are the offscourings of all things." In all directions we were openly disfellowshipped, and pulpits which had been wide open to us were almost everywhere, Methodist ones excepted, closed and barred against us.

Take a single example, illustrative of the state of feeling that then existed. A council of ministers and delegates from surrounding churches met in South Boston to ordain and instal the younger Dr. Patton as pastor of a church there. During the examination of the candidate, he was asked this question: "If you are installed over this church, will you allow President Mahan or Professor Finney to preach in your pulpit?" On receiving an affirmative answer, the Council spent half a day in discussing whether they should proceed further with the exercises. Some member, in addressing the Council, used the words, "The brethren at Oberlin." "They are not brethren; they are aliens," was the prompt response; a response with which almost the entire body openly sympathised. It was under such circumstances that brother Finney and myself deliberately set about the work of convincing the ministry and churches that they had erred, and that God had taught us the truth, on a subject of most vital interest to all believers.

When passing through all these "trials of faith," and when my name was everywhere being cast out as evil, this conviction was ever distinctly before my mind; "I must never suffer my temper to be ruffled. When reviled, I must bless: when persecuted, I must suffer it: when defamed, I must entreat: in whatever state I am, I must learn therewith to be content." Before I knew my Saviour, and the power of His grace, as I have known them for the past forty-seven years, I found conformity to such convictions practically impossible. Christ's yoke and burden pressed heavily upon my spirits, and with great mental suffering I "bore the cross after Jesus." Since the good hour in which God made known to me "what is the riches of the glory of this mystery among the Gentiles; which is Christ in you, the hope of glory," Christ's "yoke has indeed been easy, and His burden light," and His cross has pressed upon the soul as "a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory." Then, the cry of my soul was, "O wretched man that I am! Who shall deliver me?" Since then, I have fully known what Paul meant, when he said, "In all these things we are more than conquerors through Him that hath loved us;" and when he said again, as Alford translates his words, "Most gladly therefore will I rather boast, in my infirmities, that the power of Christ may rest upon me. Wherefore I am well content in infirmities, in insults, in necessities, in persecutions, in distresses, for Christ's sake; for, when I am weak, then am I strong." "I have strength for all things in Him who giveth me power."

Pastoral Experiences of such Conflicts in the city of Cincinnati

No important city in any free State had so direct and immediate connection with, and dependence for its prosperity upon, the Southern States as Cincinnati. No such city, consequently, was so deeply imbued with the Southern sentiment. For this reason, no pastor could be in worse relations to the popular sentiment around him, than one holding the anti-slavery doctrine; and I was so circumstanced that my views upon the subject could not be hid. Immediately after coming to the city, I was elected a trustee, and member of the Prudential Committee, of Lane Seminary. After Dr. Beecher received his appointment as Professor of Theology in the Institution, I was appointed to draft a letter to be addressed in the name of the trustees to the Doctor's church in Boston, to induce that church to consent to his acceptance of the appointment referred to. I accordingly drafted the letter which appears in his Memoir. As a large portion of the students who joined the Seminary after Dr. Beecher and Professor Stowe became connected with it, came from the State of New York, and knew me personally, or by reputation, most of them connected themselves with my congregation, took charge of our singing, and became teachers in our Sabbath school. These facts rendered my connection with the Institution quite conspicuous. As the anti-slavery agitation was now stirring the nation from centre to circumference, I felt it a duty to prepare my own church for the crisis which, without our seeking, was upon us. I accordingly prepared, with great care, a discourse in which I candidly expressed my own views, and urged upon all perfect candour in examining the subject, and Christian charity where difference of opinion might be arrived at. This was the only discourse I delivered upon the subject during my pastorate there, and I was not in the habit of alluding to it in my ordinary discourses. The result was, that that discourse instantly became the subject of public talk and embittered discussion throughout the city. Immediately it was noised abroad all through the city that I had openly avowed and defended the doctrine of amalgamation, though I had not alluded to the subject. As an imputed advocate of the intermarriage of the whites and blacks, I myself together with my family, was practically disfellowshipped, and treated as an alien and outcast by the churches, and mass of the community, outside of my own church and congregation. As our two young children, for example, were, one day in summer, amusing themselves on the sidewalk in front of our house, they were discovered by a knot of children on the opposite side of the street, and the cry was raised, "See those children. Their father is an abolitionist. Stone them." A violent stoning instantly commenced; our little daughters fled for their lives, one of them suffering a heavy fall upon the pavement.

Prior to Dr. Beecher's coming to Cincinnati, I had become quite endeared to the church and congregation of which, at the time of his connection with the Seminary, he became pastor. During the first period of cholera they were without a pastor, and as there was very little sickness among my own people, I practically took the pastoral charge of them, tending their sick and officiating at their funerals, until, from excessive fatigue, I was myself stricken down by the pestilence. For this and other reasons, special pains were taken by that people to show their respect for myself and my wife. Whenever she entered that church, as soon as she was seen in the "broad aisle," at least half a dozen doors would be thrown open to welcome her. After Dr. Beecher entered upon his pastorate, and my position became known, Mrs. Mahan, being desirous to hear him, visited that church. She entered it with no apprehension that she would not be as welcome as ever before. When she started down the "broad aisle," however, not an individual recognised her, not a door was opened to receive her. Thus she walked down until she entered a vacant slip, the second from the pulpit, a slip owned by a special friend of ours, and who had invited us to occupy it whenever we had occasion to attend that church. At the close of the services not an individual even recognised her. The brave woman returned a more confirmed friend of the slave than ever before, and exhorted her husband, to stand fast by his principles. Those, as the reader will perceive, risked not a little who opened their mouths for the dumb at that time. Multitudes of ministers of all denominations, who were silent upon the subject in those perilous times, became bold defenders of the rights of the coloured man as soon as the anti-slavery sentiment became popular.

At this time, an event occurred which startled, not only the community, but the whole nation. In the different departments of Lane Seminary were collected upwards of one hundred young men. Some of these, such as Mr. Theodore D. Weld, had already a national reputation. Two of them were sons of Dr. Allen, a distinguished Presbyterian minister in Alabama. Another., Mr. J. A. Thome, was from a very distinguished family in Kentucky. Mr. Stanton, from the State of New York, and others from other States, were widely known as young men of great promise. Dr. Beecher, when at the east, publicly stated, as reported in the papers, that among those students was an embodiment of a greater amount of piety and talent than he had ever known to be collected in any other institution. These students requested and obtained leave of the Faculty to hold, in their Literary Society, a full and free discussion of the subject of slavery. A discussion ensued, occupying the evenings of five or six weeks, and one of the very ablest character. The result was, that the mass of the students, including all from the South, embraced the anti-slavery sentiment, and organised a society for the purpose of acting upon the national mind. Great excitement followed, as the facts were spread before the nation through the papers. Cincinnati had never been so convulsed before. The most influential citizens openly talked of sending up an organised mob to demolish the buildings, and drive the Faculty and students from the ground. The Faculty took the alarm, called the students together, assured them that they were right in the conclusions which they had reached, and that the time would come when decisive action would be demanded; but that they were now too far in advance of public sentiment to act without infinite peril to higher interests. "I have made it a fixed maxim of my life," said the venerable President, "never to take a public stand in favour of any new subject that is likely to excite controversy, until I was fully assured that public sentiment was so far advanced in its favour as to sustain me in its advocacy. I earnestly commend my example to your imitation in the perilous circumstances in which we are now placed." The students were accordingly entreated to allay public excitement by dissolving their society, and suspending all present action upon the agitating subject. All such considerations failed to convince the young men, and to induce them to undo what they had done, and that from the most solemn convictions of right and duty.

Before any violent measures were matured in the city, all visible causes for present action were removed by the occurrence of the three months' summer vacation, the dispersion of the students, and the departure of all the Faculty but one to attend the eastern anniversaries. At the same time, I availed myself of a pastoral vacation to visit my parents and friends in the State of New York. I had not attended one of the anit-slavery discussions in the Seminary; my known relations to the students, however, as well as my known views upon the subject, directly identified me with all their doings, and greatly intensified the popular prejudice against me. Hence, as soon as my absence was known, it was everywhere reported that I had gone to obtain a new field of labour, and would never dare to show my face in the city again. Having completed my visit, however, I did return, and that with no intention of abandoning a church and congregation who had so bravely stood by me amid all reproaches, and encircling perils. While my name, let me add here, was a reproach with masses around, my own people were contemplating adding two hundred dollars to my salary. Immediately on my return I found myself in a circle of fire of which I had no previous knowledge or expectation. Arriving at home about noon, I found upon my table a notice to attend, at a specified hour of the same day, a meeting of the Prudential Committee of the Seminary. The business of the meeting was action upon a new code of laws, prepared by a sub-committee appointed at a previous meeting. By one item of this code the Anti-Slavery Society in the Seminary was dissolved, and all future organisations of the kind were prohibited. Another item forbade all discussions of the subject of slavery in any of the literary, religious, or social gatherings of the pupils, or at their public tables at meal-times. The last item absolutely prohibited private conversation among the students upon the subject. When the motion to adopt this Draconian code was about to be put, I interposed the objection, that we, as a Prudential Committee, were wholly an executive, and not at all a lawmaking power, that the trustees were the only body that had power to make laws for the Seminary, and that we, as a committee, were acting illegally in attempting to exercise such functions. Judge Wright, President of the Board of Trustees and Chairman of the Prudential Committee, and also of the sub-committee which had prepared the code, responded at once to the correctness of my views, saying that they had misapprehended the proper functions of their body. Recommitting the code for future revision, the Committee adjourned with a resolution to call together the trustees at the earliest period practicable, ten or twelve days' previous notice being required for an extra session. I immediately wrote to Dr. Beecher, informing him of what was being done, and of the peril of the Seminary, and urged him and Professor Stowe to hasten home and prevent the dismantling of the Institution, an event which, I assured him, would occur, should the measures under consideration be carried out. I wrote under the distinct impression that both of these individuals would reprobate the passage of the proposed code of laws. This I inferred from their known antecedents, both of them having openly avowed the absolute right of all students, in all our Institutions, freely to discuss all such subjects among themselves. Just before leaving for the east, I heard Professor Stowe say with great earnestness, in reply to a suggestion from a leading citizen that the trustees might, by the passage of a new code, suppress the existing anti-slavery agitation in the Seminary, "If a law suppressing free discussion in this Institution shall be passed, I will not be connected with it for five minutes." The views of these individuals had, as will appear, essentially changed upon this subject, through consultation with leading minds at the east. Both remained away until after the trustees had acted, Dr. Beecher stopping at Columbus, and from thence turning north and spending about two weeks in the town of Granville.

When the trustees met, the code previously prepared was reported for their action. As now reported, however, two changes in the original had been made. The item prohibiting private conversation among the students on the subject of slavery was omitted, and a new one added of an unheard of character. It was this: "The Prudential Committee shall have power to turn out any student from the Seminary, when they shall deem it necessary so to do." When this new item was read, a gleam of hope sprang up in my mind in regard to final results. The law was so monstrously unjust, that, as I saw, it would reveal to the public the animus of the whole procedure, and turn sympathy from the trustees towards the students. Wishing to have it pass, if the code itself should be adopted, I felt bound to protest against it. When it came up to be acted upon, I accordingly said, that "If I should hear that such a law had been adopted in Turkey for the government of one of their institutions, I should regard the fact with utter surprise, it being so monstrously unjust to put such despotic power into the hands of any irresponsible body of men over the dearest rights and interests of students." That item, with all the others, was adopted, however; all the trustees assenting, with the exception of myself and two of my elders, William Holyoke and John Melindy, two as noble specimens of sanctified humanity as I have ever met with. All that we could say was said to dissuade our associates from the suicidal measure, which, we clearly saw, they were about to perpetrate. One reason urged for immediate and prompt action was a fact stated by one of the influential members. "A meeting," he said, "had just been held, at the east, by the Presidents and leading Professors of our most influential Colleges and Theological Seminaries in New England, in the middle and western States, and it had been unanimously agreed that the times imperiously demanded that all anti-slavery agitation should be suppressed by laws such as we were then enacting, and it was agreed that Lane Seminary should lead off, and the others would promptly follow her example." Several such institutions were designated by name. When I heard those statements, these words instantly passed through my mind: "The first institution that passes such laws must be crushed. That will end the movement." This prediction was verified by the dismantlement of Lane Seminary, a dismantlement which immediately followed the passage of these laws. Not an institution in a northern State, a single eastern academy excepted, redeemed its pledge to follow the example of this one Seminary. These two Institutions, the former being as promptly dismantled as the latter, were thus "left alone in their glory."

When the code was adopted throughout, my own vote and that of my two elders being recorded against every item of the same, a motion was made that, to allay public excitement, the said code should be immediately published in all the daily papers of the city. While this motion was pending, the President of the Board remarked, that they had better not publish with the rest that item by which power was given to the Prudential Committee to "turn out of the Seminary any student, when they should deem it necessary so to do." "That item," he remarked, "the public have no concern with whatever. It belongs exclusively to the Committee for the regulation of their action." To this I replied, that the public, students especially who were, or might desire to become, connected with the Seminary, had an absolute right to know beforehand and fully all the laws and powers to which such members are subject, and that it would be dishonourable and dishonest to withhold such information. The motion to publish the code in its entireness was accordingly passed. As we were about to disperse, the President of the Board introduced again the subject of the item under consideration, and almost beseechingly urged that it should be withheld from the public. I replied, that the item could not be concealed; that if the trustees should withhold it, it would go forth by itself as something so monstrously unjust, that those who adopted it were ashamed to have the public know what they had done. The Pastor of the Third Presbyterian church then arose, and remarked, that he had from the beginning approved of this law as right in itself and as, in existing circumstances, wholly expedient. Nor did he perceive anything intrinsic in the item, to require it to be withheld from the public. "There is one consideration, however," he said, "which makes me fear to have this item go out as a part of the code which we have adopted. I perceive that that man," pointing to myself; "is strongly desirous to have it published. That makes me apprehensive that he sees something in this item that we do not. I shall therefore vote against its publication." Perceiving that such considerations were about to prevail, as a final resort, I turned to Mr. Melindy, who sat next me, and said, "Say to Mr. N.," a very influential and fiery trustee who sat near his side, "You dare not publish that law." No sooner had Mr. M. done as requested, than Mr. N. got upon his feet. "We are told," he exclaimed, "that we dare not publish this law. We will let them know that we not only dare to publish it, but to execute it too. There are a number of those students who will never be permitted to join the Seminary again." "That will do," I said to myself; and the code, in its entireness, went before the public.

I have but one motive in recording these personal reminiscences—to show how it is, that when even wise men are about to do some bad thing, they generally adopt some rash measures which defeat their own ends. The code had not been two days before the public, when this one item became the subject of general conversation, and of the strongest possible reprobation. Every student in the Seminary, it was truly said, whatever his virtues or reputation might be, and however loyal to the rules and regulations of the institution, was placed in absolute subjection to the prejudice and arbitrary disposal of a body of irresponsible inquisitors. Public sympathy was immediately turned away from the trustees, and set so strongly towards the students, that all symptoms of mob violence disappeared. As soon as Dr. Beecher returned, and learned the state of the public mind, he rushed to the leading members of the Board of Trustees, and exclaimed, "Gentlemen, what have you done? Professor Stowe and myself fully approve of the entire code of laws you have passed, with the exception of this most offensive item, which has rendered all that you have done a public scandal." The deed was done, and was before the public, and the effect could not be remedied. As soon as the Board met, at their annual meeting, at the commencement of the fall term of the Seminary, this law was promptly erased from the Statute Book. "That law," said the President of the Board to me, "is a mystery to me. I drafted it myself. Why I did not apprehend its character, I cannot comprehend."

The students, with others who had come to join the institution, were promptly on the ground at the opening of the term. They immediately assembled in the chapel, and sent a committee of their number to the Faculty, with a request that some of the latter should be deputed to read and expound to the students the new code of laws which had just been enacted. This was done. Then another committee was sent to inquire whether the students would be permitted to discuss among themselves the character of the new code. To this inquiry a negative answer was promptly returned, with the statement that there was only one question for the students to decide, each for himself; and that was, whether he would, or would not, acquiesce in those laws, and act loyally under them. Another committee was sent with the inquiry whether the students would be permitted to discuss among themselves the propriety of their continuing in the Seminary while subject to such laws. To this inquiry an answer identical with the former was promptly returned. One of the leading students now arose, and remarked, that one privilege remained to them, namely, to say, by rising to their feet, whether they would, or would not, continue members of the Institution under existing circumstances. For himself; he would say, that the most solemn convictions of duty to his God, his conscience, his country, and the race, constrained him to say, that he could not longer continue a student of Lane Seminary. He should, therefore, ask of the Faculty an honourable dismission; and he would request every student present, who was of the same mind and determination with himself; to signify the same by rising and standing upon his feet. The mass of the students promptly arose; a very small minority, among whom was a son of Dr. Beecher, looking on with consternation. Each of the seceding students asked and received of the Faculty an honourable dismission, and "went out, not knowing whither he went."

A very wealthy individual, Mr. Ludlow, brother-in-law of the late Chief Justice Chace, promptly vacated his ample residence, buildings, and grounds, and gave them up for the occupancy of these students as long as occasion should require. Arthur Tappan, Esq., of New York, that world-renowned philanthropist, immediately sent on five thousand dollars to sustain these students in their new apartments. We thus had, in an incredibly short time, two Institutions of the same character in the vicinity of Cincinnati: one at Cummingsville, full of students, but without endowments, and without a Faculty; and one at Walnut Hills, with large but empty buildings, an ample endowment, an able Faculty, but practically without students, the number present being not sufficient to give the Institution "a name to live."

The intensest indignation of the special friends of the Seminary now centred upon myself. I was everywhere charged with being the cause of the secession of the students and of the dismantling of the Institution. The leading members of my church were visited by the general agent of the Seminary and others, and urged, by every consideration they could present, to secure my prompt dismissal from my pastorate. That "little flock," of "blessed memory," could not see matters as their advisers did. As a Spartan phalanx, they encircled, sustained, and encouraged their pastor, and were about, as I have stated, to add two hundred dollars to his salary, when he was called to another sphere of action. As far as the secession under consideration is concerned, I am bound to affirm, as I stated to all who charged me with being its cause, that I had nothing whatever to do with it, the simple fact excepted, that the students knew that I approved of their anti-slavery views and measures. They were all absent from the city and Seminary when the laws which occasioned their secession were enacted. On their return, at the commencement of the new term, they went straight to the Institution, not one of them taking any advice, direct or indirect, from me; and they remained there until they went out with dismissions in their pockets. They avoided, as I suppose, communication with me for the prudent and kind purpose of not involving me at all in their doings.

These facts, however, and the assurances to the same effect which the authorities and friends of the Seminary received, did not in the least shield me from the charges under consideration. No pastor, outside of his own church and congregation, ever stood in a more insulated and unenviable position than I did at that time. I was the only pastor, of any denomination, in the city, or for thirty or more miles round, who stood upon the platform; and no man could occupy such a position in circumstances which rendered him the object of more general and embittered reprobation. This position, let me add, was taken deliberately, with a full calculation of the probable consequences. I had not sought the issues which had been forced upon me. Under such circumstances, I had but one law of judgment and action, namely, the behests of conscience and the will of God. If I followed this law, I saw distinctly before me the bitter disfavour of the public, the loss of Christian fellowship with those with whom I had been in most intimate association, and utter separation from the good-will of all the churches of all denominations around me. This was not all. I saw, in almost certain prospect, the loss of my place as pastor, a future exclusion from leading churches everywhere on account of the pro-slavery spirit with which they were pervaded, and the spending of the future of life among an obscure people in some retired locality. It was in view of such considerations that, when at the East, I refused, though urged to do so, to present myself as a candidate for the then vacant pastorate of the First Presbyterian Church of Buffalo, N.Y. Such a position I did not, however, assume, without pain and intense mental suffering. I had not then "learned" the Divine lesson, "in whatever state I was, therewith to be content," and especially to "take pleasure in infirmities, in reproaches, in necessities, in persecutions, in distresses for Christ's sake." But, blessed be His name, I had grace to choose most deliberately to suffer pain, to incur prospective poverty and ignominy, rather than violate my conscience by refusing to "open my mouth for the dumb."

The Results.

Ministers and others who shape their course to popular favour, on the one hand, and with a single eye to the behests of conscience and the will of God, on the other, have, both classes, their respective rewards; the one class receiving the favour of man, and the other the smile of God. All the brethren who called upon me—and many did call—to expostulate with me for the course I was pursuing, admitted fully and distinctly the absolute validity of my principles, and the rectitude of my motives, in the course I was pursuing. But they remarked, "How obviously unwise and inexpedient it is for an individual in your position to sacrifice popular favour, and jeopardise all your influence in respect to all the great interests of the age, in the defence of one single principle!" "We have not, any of us," said the editor of our religious journal, on one such occasion,—"not one of us has a doubt about the truth of the doctrine you hold, or of the rectitude of your motives; but why will you jeopardise your influence on all other subjects in the defence of that one doctrine? I, for example, as an editor, have influence in the Temperance cause, in the Tract cause, in the Education cause, and in the Missionary cause, Home and Foreign. Shall I jeopardise my influence in all these causes in defence of this one?" My reply was, that I had "not so learned Christ." The cause of human nature, in the person of the slave, was, not by our choice, but in the unavoidable providence of God, forced upon us, and we were necessitated to show our hands on the one side or the other. Under such circumstances, I see but one alternative—to violate my conscience and the will of God, or to "dare to be true," "dare to be just," and "dare to do right," and leave consequences with "the Judge of all." Yet never before, when any important question was pending, was my advice more eagerly sought, or had greater influence, than at this time, although, when I was among my brethren, they stood away from me as if I had leprosy.

A special meeting of the Cincinnati Presbytery, for example, was called to meet at Reading, some ten or twelve miles north of the city, to try the pastor of that church, one of our most respected members, under charges precisely similar to those which Dr. Talmage was recently required to meet before the Brooklyn Presbytery. The case was a very perplexing one, the complainants being several of the most influential members of that church. Thinking that my presence would be a trial to my brethren, I determined to remain at home, and did so. As soon as it was found that I was not coming, a special messenger and conveyance were sent to the city to convey me to the meeting.

I shall leave the motive with my God, in relating a fact which illustrates the difference between a standing in the smiles of public favour, and a right adjustment to the public conscience. When two young attornies, both members of Dr. Beecher's congregation, were together one day, one said to the other, "There is something very singular about the Pastor of this Sixth Presbyterian Church. He is, outside of his own church and people, the most unpopular man I ever knew. His name is never spoken but with reprobation. Yet, if anybody, even one of his worst defamers, desires to obtain light on a question of duty or truth, or to know what he shall do to be saved, he will pass right by all these popular preachers, and go directly to this one man. You know well that this is the case. How do you account for such a strange fact?" "The reason is this," was the reply. "Whatever people may say about him, no one of them entertains a doubt that he is an honest man." The individual that gave this answer, afterwards attended one of my weekly lectures, tarried at the close to inquire of me, "What he should do to inherit eternal life," and left the place with the assurance of peace with God. He subsequently left his profession, and died while a student of Theology in the Seminary.

Such facts clearly elucidate the secret of power in the pulpit, of power for the end for which the ministry was ordained—to "persuade men." Never, in my ministerial life, had I preached the Gospel with greater freedom and power than I did during all this stormy period. Nor did revival influences cease, but we had, as before, constant accessions from the world. At this time the Methodist Protestants held a camp meeting upon an old camp ground some twenty-five or thirty miles above the city. So perfectly accustomed had the people become to their mode of presenting truth, that the ministers said clearly that they could make no impression upon their audiences. They accordingly sent for me. When I arose to speak, I seemed to be girded with great and blessed energies. As the result of the first discourse, a revival broke out, which is spoken of to this day by elderly believers in the city and in all that region. A scene which was presented as I retired into that forest for secret prayer is described in Out of Darkness into Light, and will not be repeated here.

The reverse was true of the ministry around me. Revival influences died out of their churches, and were absent for years subsequent. I solemnly believe that the cause of this, and of the subsequent flooding of that city by spiritualism and infidelity, was the manifest fact that during that period which "tried men's souls," the ministry, and with them the churches, adjusted themselves to popular favour rather than to the public conscience. Some sixteen years after I left, on revisiting the scene of my former labours, I attended a special ministemial meeting called to consider the state of religion in the city. In this meeting the pastor of the leading Episcopal Church stated that the mass of the people, the young especially, were under the influence of the two forms of error just mentioned; that, as was well known, upwards of five hundred separate circles met every week in that city to witness these spirit seances, all of which were attended by crowded audiences. Yet, the fear of losing popular favour by meddling, as it was called, with such debasing errors, utterly prevented anything being done to arrest the pestilence. May the time soon come when the fact will be "known and read of all men," that a ministry and a church which do not, by a manifestation of the truth, commend themselves to every man's conscience in the "sight of God," are "as sounding brass or a tinkling cymbal." It is an abiding consolation with me, at this time of life, looking as I am directly into eternity, that during my entire official life I have never, in the decision of any question providentially submitted to my election, deviated from the one sacred inquiry, "What is true? What is right? What is duty? What is the will of God? What do the immortal interests of my fellow men demand of me?"

A startling Occurrence.

While matters were progressing as above stated, an event utterly unexpected to us all occurred, an event which startled not only the community around me, but the entire nation. The Rev. J. J. Shipherd, the principal founder of Oberlin College and Community, called at my house, and for several days became a guest in my family. He came under a special commission from the trustees to find a President for their College. As soon as he received his commission and made it a subject of prayer, a strong and almost irrepressible impression came over his mind, that he should at once go south at least as far as Cincinnati. The thought of going in that direction had not before come into his mind, nor had he knowledge of a single fact or reason why he should go in that direction, this one distinct and strong impression excepted. Under that impression he started south and went as far as Columbus. Here he found himself so exhausted on account of the almost intolerable state of the road, and so appalled by the worse prospect between that point and Cincinnati, that he determined to take the National road, and go direct to New York. At the hotel he providentially met the son of the Rev. John Keep, the President of the Oberlin Board of Trustees. This young man, a graduate of an eastern College, had gone down to Cincinnati to join Lane Seminary, but, on account of the state of the Institution, he had left, and was on his way home. When Mr. Shipherd made known to him the object of his mission, young Mr. Keep said, "Go to Cincinnati by all means. The pastor of the Sixth Presbyterian Church there is the man you are inquiring after." This determined Mr. Shipherd. At that time, mid-winter, the mails between the two cities, no other public conveyance then existing, were carried in a large rude box placed upon a two-wheeled cart, which was drawn by four horses. No passengers were taken but such as would consent to sit or lie among those mail-bags. Into that box Mr. Shipherd threw himself, and so came to our city. For some days he said not a word to me or to my wife about his mission, talking freely to us, however, about his College. In my family, at the time, was a daughter of a leading citizen of Oberlin, a young lady who, with some others, was taking lessons from me in mental science. On making known to her his mission, she replied that in that house was the man he was seeking. About the time this conversation was being held, several of the students from Cummingsville called at my house. To them, in strict confidence, he made known the object of his mission. They unanimously and spontaneously advised my appointment. Mr. Shipherd then went to Cummingsville, and held a strictly confidential interview with all those students. They unitedly, no one dissenting, advised my appointment, and further agreed that if Professor Morgan should receive an appointment to a Professorship in the College, they would all go to Oberlin at the opening of the spring term. Mr. Shipherd now returned and laid all the facts before me and my wife; urging that I should not wait for a formal appointment from the trustees, his power being in fact and form plenipotentiary, but should start with him up the river on Monday morning. This was the latter part of the week. The facts were so plain and overpowering, and the call of Providence so manifest, that I did not hesitate. The object now was to get away, without the reason of my absence being, for the present, made known. Of my elders, two, Messrs. Holyoke and Melindy, as fellow trustees, had acted with me through all the "fiery trials" through which I had passed. The other two sympathised with the majority of the trustees. I called together the two brethren designated, and laid before them the facts as above stated, and my determination to accept the appointment tendered me. While they expressed their deepest regret at parting with their pastor, both fully acquiesced in the wisdom of my determination. "If I can but see you," said Brother Melindy, "in a situation where you can turn round and look these men in the face, and say to them, 'Gentlemen, I am not destroyed, as you predicted that I should be,' it will be one of the happiest periods of my life."

On Saturday evening, all the elders met, and I stated to them that very unexpectedly to myself I had occasion to be absent from the city for, at least, four weeks, and requested leave to be thus absent, no reasons whatever being given. After leave was granted, the two brethren who were ignorant of the facts waited for some time in manifest bewilderment, to see if they could not gain some clue to the reasons of the mysterious request which I had presented, and they had granted me. None, however, was obtained. On board the first boat that steamed up the river on Monday, Mr. Shipherd and myself took passage, and I stepped out of the furnace, in the central fires of which I had walked so long. At Ripley, we called upon that renowned hero-friend of the slave, the Rev. John Rankin. He lived upon a very high and steep hill which overlooked the village, and a very wide extent of slave territory on the other side of the river in the State of Kentucky. His house was everywhere known as the refuge for the fugitive slave, and no such fugitive was ever taken from his premises. Having made known to him our mission, he made us a free loan of a pair of horses, on which to ride some thirty miles into the country, to see and consult Mr. Theodore D. Weld. We found him at Hilisboro delivering a course of lectures on slavery. Having laid our plans before him, we proposed that he should accept the Professorship of Theology, he being the choice of all the students at Cummingsville. "No," he replied, "I am not, but Mr. Finney is, the man to fill that Professorship; and Providence has just now prepared him to occupy such a position. He is in a state of too great physical prostra- tion to labour as an Evangelist, or to sustain the responsibilities of a pastor; while teaching theology, for which he is pre-eminently fitted, would be needful rest to him." These considerations fully determined our judgment, and then and there the plan of the Institution was fully matured; namely, I was to be President and Professor of Mental Science; Mr. Finney was to be Professor of Theology; and Professor Morgan Professor of Biblical Literature.

With this plan before us, we hastened on to New York. On our arrival, we, first of all, called together for consultation some twenty to thirty of the special friends of Mr. Finney, he being present at the meeting. Before this body we laid our cause, and fully convinced every one of his friends present that he should accept the position tendered him. He now took the matter into serious consideration. When thus pondering the subject, he asked me one day the question, "What are you doing for the endowment of your College?" "We are doing nothing," was my reply, "nor shall we do anything, until you decide the question whether you will go there, provided the means to sustain the College are secured." After a short consultation, "I will go with you," he said, "on the conditions you have named." We then went to work with a will, and in less than three months from the time when we had left Cincinnati, all the appointments above designated were made, and finally accepted, and upwards of eighty thousand dollars were secured for the endowment of the institution, and a donation of ten thousand dollars from Arthur Tappan, Esq., for incidental expenses.

At the close of my four weeks' vacation, I sent in my resignation as pastor. This was accepted, with a resolution, which was promptly carried out, to continue my salary to the end of the quarter, only four weeks of the time having expired when I left. At the close of our mission east, I returned and removed my family to Oberlin, leaving my blessing with my people, and taking theirs with me. At the opening of the spring term, all my associates were with me on the ground, together with the students from Cummingsville, and the Institution, in all its departments, Theological, College, and Preparatory, was in full operation.

"What hath God wrought!" Had it been the fixed purpose of Providence to take me out of the narrow sphere in which I was before acting, and to place me in one in which I should exert the greatest influence possible to one with my individual endowments, no better place than Oberlin could have been found for me. That Institution was the first in the history of the race to adopt the principle of the co-education of the sexes in all departments of a common and liberal education. It is well known how that principle is now influencing the Colleges and Universities and Literary Institutions throughout Christendom. To be located as the first President of such an Institution, and to be the first individual in the history of the race who carried woman through a course of liberal education, and conferred upon her the honorary degrees hitherto considered as the exclusive prerogative of the male sex, and thus to vindicate for woman a sacred right to all such privileges, was surely to be placed in a sphere of influence beyond all imagined anticipations. When I took the Presidency of that College, another principle equally new, and of still more fundamental importance, was introduced; namely, the education of mind irrespective, not only of sex, but of colour, nationality, or condition. No such Institution had ever existed before, and this stood revealed at a time of all others best adapted to commend its principles to the conscience of the Church and the nation. After that no Institution in any northern State copied the example of Lane Seminary, and in a few years that Institution blotted out its pro-slavery laws, and gave free thought as free a course as it had in any other Institution. Some years after I left, one of its graduates, the Rev. Jonathan Blanchard, one of the most outspoken abolitionists then known, became pastor of the church I had left, and continued so until he was called to the Presidency of Knox College in the State of Illinois.

Then, when Brother Finney and myself avowed the religious views which ever after constituted the burden of our lives, the great revivals in which he had had such a chief instrumentality rendered it perfectly certain that those views would enter as an all-powerful leaven into all churches of all denominations. At no time, in the history of the Church, could those views have been presented in circumstances so favourable to their ultimate general reception.

One other circumstance should not be overlooked in this connection. The number of students in constant attendance during the fifteen years in which I was President of the College, averaged between five and eight hundred. The mass of these, during our winter vacations of three months, "went abroad everywhere," as teachers and lecturers, and exerted a wonderfully powerful influence in spreading our principles and promoting revivals of religion. Think, too, of the influence of our graduates who went forth from us from year to year. The reader will appreciate the remark made to me by the Hon. Wendell Philips, the last time I met that wonderful man. After the close of the war of the rebellion, he delivered, in Adrian, a lecture, in which he laid down most true and noble principles in advance of the existing public sentiment. At the close, I went upon the platform and congratulated him upon his address, thanking him especially for the advanced principles which he had announced. His reply was in these words: "I had rather receive such commendation from you, than from any other man in the world. We all know that you have done more for this cause than any of us." This he said, not of me as a man, but as the representative of the Institution over which I had presided, and over which God, by such wondrous providences, had placed me, taking me so suddenly out of circumstances in which I had long laboured with no other expectation than being "offered on the service and sacrifice of my faith."

CHAPTER X.

PROGRESS IN CHRISTIAN DOCTRINE.

ACCORDING to the fundamental teachings of the Calvinistic faith, as originally set forth by all its advocates and expounders, each descendant of Adam is held and adjudged, at the bar of God, as "deserving God's wrath and curse, not only in this world, but in that which is to come," for three distinct and separate reasons: the first sin of Adam, imputed to them, or set over to their account, a sin committed thousands of years before thousands of millions of them existed at all; a sinful or sin-inducing nature, a nature in the origination and constitution of which they had no more agency, direct or indirect, than they had had in the sin of Adam, or in the creation of the universe; and actual transgressions which the nature, thus derived and originated, rendered it absolutely impossible that they should not commit. From these three dogmas, the entire system of Christian doctrine, as originally taught in this school, took specific form. I refer to such doctrines as the eternal decrees, eternal and unconditional election and reprobation, atonement, and regeneration. In the Arminian school, these three dogmas, together with the system of doctrine based upon the same, were either utterly denied, or fundamentally modified so as to conform to the doctrines of a general atonement, the free offer of salvation to the entire race, and a free will in man to accept or reject "the grace of God which bringeth salvation," the grace as freely and sincerely offered to every man as to any man.

At the time of my conversion, and long prior to that event, the difficulties intrinsic in the fundamental articles of the Calvinistic faith pressed with crushing weight upon very many thoughtful minds within the circle of its zealous advocates. When the sternest advocate of this faith directly confronted the doctrine that thousands of millions of moral agents are held subject to eternal doom for a single act of a single agent, an act committed thousands of years before they existed at all, he stood appalled and confounded at the undeniable monstrosity of such a dogma. No one could, by any possibility, conceive of the justice of such imputation, any more than he could conceive of the annihilation of space, or of an event without a cause. The only attempt to remove this absurdity was made by President Edwards. He, in fact, denied the representative character of Adam, and the imputation of his sin to his posterity. All mankind, Edwards affirmed, actually existed in Adam at the time of the fall, and actually, by an act of their own wills, each one for himself, concurred in that act of sin, and thus made it his own. Adam did not in that act represent the race; nor was his sin imputed to them. They, on the other hand, by voluntarily joining in that act, "sinned in him, and fell with him, in his first transgression." This explanation was so obviously false in fact that few thinkers concurred in it, and it soon passed out of the sphere of theological thought. We have here the fact common to multitudes of minds in the school of Calvinism, that such a thinker as Edwards could not embrace the dogma of the imputation of Adam's sin to his entire posterity. Hence it was utterly repudiated by multitudes in that school. Subsequently to my conversion, I never for a moment entertained that sentiment.

In the necessary judgment of all reflecting minds, the same difficulties and absurdities were involved in the doctrine of original sin, as set forth in the primal Calvinistic creed; the dogma that all mankind are held as deserving and subject to "God's wrath and curse, not only in this life, but in that which is to come," for a nature derived from Adam, and originated wholly by God Himself, by establishing and sustaining, by His own omnipotence, the laws of natural generation; a nature, in the origination and constitution of which the subject had no knowledge, choice, or agency. The fact of the existence of such a nature was readily admitted by all. That God Himself should thus originate such a nature, and then hold the subject, who had had no agency at all in its production, as exclusively responsible, as subject to eternal doom, or as guilty at all, for its existence,—reflective thought shrank back, with horror and reprobation, from such a dogma. As a consequence, masses of minds, within the circle of the Calvinistic faith, blotted the doctrine from their creed. Quite early, it was deliberately excluded from my articles of faith.

According to the fundamental teachings of the Calvinistic faith in its primal form, Christ made no atonement for the sins of the non-elect. Yet salvation through Christ is undeniably offered in the Scriptures to all mankind without exception, and, according to the express teachings of the sacred Word, the doom of the lost will be greatly aggravated in consequence of their rejection of "the grace of God which bringeth salvation." The question which here pressed with crushing weight upon reflective thought was this: How can grace, which only exists for a part, be sincerely offered unto all? and how can men be justly held responsible for the non-acceptance of grace which never existed for them, which could have been of no avail to them, had they accepted it, and which they had no power to accept? Such considerations induced multitudes of Calvinists, and among these not a few of the most influential thinkers in that school, to reject the doctrine of a partial, or particular, and embrace and avow that of a general, atonement. My own faith became, and that quite early, "rooted and grounded" in this latter doctrine.

In the deductions thus far successively reached, reflective thought still found no rest, being palpably confronted with such questions as these: How can a creature be justly blameable for rejecting grace which he has no power whatever to accept, or be justly held subject to eternal doom for not accepting mercy in the total absence of all power to do anything else but reject the proffer? In other words: How can obligation exist, in the total absence of all power of compliance? No deduction is, or can be, more intuitively absolute to reflective thought than is the intuition that obligation, and with it the desert of eternal doom, is, in the absence of all power of compliance, an utter impossibility. Hence the deduction made by multitudes in the school under consideration, namely, that mankind must be possessed of real power, in some form, to do the right and avoid the wrong, and to accept of the grace of God. This conviction gave rise to the famous distinction between the doctrines of natural and moral ability. All mankind, it was affirmed, have natural, but all have not moral, ability to do the will of God, and accept of the provisions of grace revealed in the Gospel.

The sinner, we were taught, does not need a new will, but a new direction of the activity of the will he has, in order to his keeping the commandments, and accepting the grace of God; and nothing but his choice of evil prevents his doing this. He, therefore, has natural power to do the right and avoid the wrong. He lacks moral power to do this, however, because, while the action of his will is in the direction of evil, and away from the good, he lacks, in the circumstances and relations in which he does act, the power of contrary choice, that is, real power to "break off his sins by righteousness, and his iniquities by cleaving unto the Lord," or to accept the grace provided for and proffered to him in the Gospel.

This doctrine of natural ability and moral inability, which, for many years, was a general theme of religious thought and discourse, was at length, when its character came to be clearly understood, found to leave the old difficulty just as it was before. According to this doctrine of moral inability, the will of the sinner is, in fact, in all its intentions, purposes, choices, and volitions, moving in the line of sin, in the total absence of all available power of contrary choice, that is, of putting forth any intentions, choices, or volitions, but sinful ones. As a consequence, that doctrine which, for a time, was supposed to shed eternal sunlight through the entire sphere of the Calvinistic faith, passed at length into a deserved oblivion.

The Crucial Question.

It was thus, that the progress of religious thought at last brought distinctly before the Calvinistic churches the great crucial question which divides and separates the real Calvinistic from all other forms of the evangelical faith. I refer to the fundamental question pertaining to the will itself, namely, Is the will, in all its activities, in common with physical causes and events in the world around us, subject to the law of necessary causation? Or is the will, in its activity, an exception to the rule of exterior causes and events, and subject to the law of liberty, in opposition to that of necessity? These two laws may be thus set forth: To the will existing in given circumstances and relations, but one intention, purpose, or choice is possible, and that one specific act must arise. This is the law of necessity, and to this law, according to the real Calvinistic faith, in all its forms, the will, in all its activities, is absolutely subject. In the circumstances and relations in which men sin, no other acts but those specific ones which they do put forth are possible to them, and these must arise. Take the entire course of disobedience by which each lost soul is landed in the gulf of death. In the circumstances and relations in which, by the providence of God, every one of these creatures existed and acted, only the one specific course which he did pursue was possible to him, and that one specific and exclusive course he could by no possibility but have pursued. Such is the doctrine of necessity, or of Calvinism proper, in all its forms. The opposite law, that of liberty, may be thus announced. To the will, when existing in given circumstances, either of two or more distinct, separate, and opposite intentions, purposes, or choices, is possible, and equally so; and when one given act is put forth, either of the others, and that with no change of relations and circumstances, might have been put forth in the stead of the one referred to. In other words, in the identical circumstances in which men do, in fact, "choose the evil and refuse the good," they might "choose the good and refuse the evil." In view of this doctrine we affirm, and necessarily believe, that man, as a moral agent, ought not, under any circumstances, to sin, because under no circumstances is he necessitated to sin, and because in the circumstances in which he does, he should not, because he may not, sin.

In the latter part of my theological course, and in the first years of my ministry, these doctrines came, with great distinctness and prominence, before the public mind, and became, throughout the entire domain of the Calvinistic churches in the United States, the subjects of the most earnest thought and discussion. Just at this time important events occurred which brought the subject before the American public, in circumstances most favourable to its final settlement. Two discourses, for example, On the Nature of Sin, were published by a very eminent and influential thinker, Professor Fitch, of Yale College. In these discourses, the position was taken and verified by proofs, which vast multitudes of the best thinkers in the nation deemed irrefragable, that sin proper, that for which the creature is subject to condemnation, consists exclusively in a voluntary transgression of known duty. Before sin is possible, the creature must "know to choose the good and refuse the evil;" and sin, in all its real forms, must consist in choosing the evil and refusing the good, their character being thus known. This doctrine did not deny, but fully admitted, a fallen, or what is called a sinful, nature in man, but affirmed that we are accountable, not for the mere existence of this nature, but for our voluntary action relatively to its promptings. With those who admitted this doctrine of sin, the question, "What are the real relations of the human will to sin?" became one of fundamental interest, one too which had to be met, and which was submitted under circumstances most favourable to its correct and final settlement. The question submitted is this: With the nature of which man is possessed, and in the circumstances in which God places him, is it true that nothing but the sin which man does commit is possible to him, and this sin he must commit? Or is it true that with this identical nature, and in these identical circumstances, in the stead of the sin which he does commit, the sinner may "choose the good and refuse the evil?" If the former question be answered in the affirmative, man is a necessary—and if the latter, he is a free—agent. It is self-evident, also, that one of these hypotheses must be true, and the other false, and all acts of sin, on the one hand, and of obedience on the other, must fall exclusively under one or the other of these relations. The considerations which finally induced me to change fundamentally my life-long and most fondly cherished belief and repudiate utterly the doctrine of necessity, and adopt that of liberty, were, among others, the following:

A fundamental Change of Base, and the Reasons for it.

I. On mature reflection, I came to the absolute conviction, that I must deny the former, and accept the latter doctrine, or affirm the intelligence, conscience, and moral nature of men, as God has constituted them, to be a lie. On the hypothesis, when distinctly apprehended, that with the nature which God has given them, and in the circumstances in which God has placed them, nothing but the sin which creatures do commit is possible to them, and that such sin they must commit, it is as impossible for the intelligence, the conscience, and moral nature to affirm that the subject ought not to sin, or is, or can be, deserving of eternal doom for sin, as it is to conceive of an event without a cause. In the propositions—Men ought to do what by no possibility they can do, and ought not to do what they cannot but do,—no meaning whatever attaches to the terms, ought and ought not. Either the reason, the conscience, and the moral nature, as God has constituted them, are a lie, or the doctrine of necessity is false, and "God has made free the human will."

2. Another all-valid reason why I repudiated the doctrine of necessity and adopted that of liberty, is the absolute testimony of the inner consciousness. Whenever we put forth an act of choice, we are as conscious of a power to choose differently from what we do, as we are that we exist at all. The remembrance of all past acts of choice is attended with the same absolute consciousness, that we might have chosen differently from what we did. Hence the remorse, and conscious desert of retribution, which attend the consciousness of sin. Take away the consciousness, that we might "choose the good, and refuse the evil," when we do refuse the good, and choose the evil, and all self-reproach, remorse, and conscious desert of doom would, of necessity, wholly drop out of human thought. The universal consciousness, as God has constituted it, is a lie, or man is a free, and not a necessary, agent.

3. As another form of absolute proof, that the doctrine of liberty is true, and that of necessity false, I did refer, and now refer, to the necessary intuitive convictions of the race. Lay before any mind on earth the proposition, that whenever rational mind chooses the evil and refuses the good, it might, instead of the sin, "choose the good, and refuse the evil," and the intuitive and absolute conviction will, of necessity, arise, that the evil should never, and the good should ever, be chosen. Lay before any mind, on the other hand, the proposition, that whenever, and wherever, the evil is chosen, and the good refused, none but those identical so-called sinful choices can arise, and these must arise, and the intuitive and necessary conviction will and must be induced, that no ill-desert does, or can, attach to sin, and no obligation to "choose the good, and refuse the evil," does, or can, exist. Outside of a narrow school in theology, wherever, and whenever, the doctrine of necessity has been affirmed, the ill-desert of sin, and obligation to do the right, have been absolutely denied, and the absolute intuitions of the race have affirmed the validity of that denial. Shall we affirm universal and absolute intuition to be a lie? We must do so, or repudiate this doctrine of necessity, and accept, as true, the intuitive fact, that "God has made free the human will."

4. Nor should the admissions of Necessitarians be overlooked in this connection. No such individual ever pretended that he could understand how and why a sinner can deserve eternal doom, or be criminal at all, for any acts of choice, when only these specific acts are possible to him, and these he must put forth. The only defence set up is this, that the subject is mysterious to us, and may be all plain to the Divine Mind. In reply, we say, that there is no mystery whatever in or about this doctrine; the whole subject being perfectly understood, just as perfectly as is the proposition, that the same object cannot exist and not exist, and that at the same moment of time. The doctrine of necessity affirms that in every act of sin, in the circumstances of its occurrence, none but this one act is possible to the subject, and this he must commit; and that God holds the subject as deserving eternal doom for an act thus committed. Every term and element of this proposition is as perfectly understood, as is the proposition, that there can be no event without a cause, or that two and two make four. The Necessitarian cannot perceive how and why his doctrine can be true, and the creature be responsible for his acts of choice, for that simple and exclusive reason, that such responsibility, his doctrine being admitted, is as inconceivable as is the non-being of space.

5. Equally explicit, as I clearly saw, are all the express and implied revelations of Scripture in respect to this subject. In the sacred Word, God appeals to the reason, conscience, and moral nature of man in verification of the integrity and rectitude of His moral administration. "Are not My ways equal?" "Judge, I pray you, betwixt Me and My vineyard." The Most High allows His creatures to put to Him the question "Shall not the Judge of all the earth do right?" In view of such facts, the deduction is self-evident, that God's retributive administration is not, and cannot be, based upon a principle which renders it absolutely impossible for the reason and conscience of all rationals, good and bad in common, not to condemn and reprobate that principle. Let it be known at the final judgment,—and it will be known if the doctrine of necessity is true,—that in the circumstances, Divinely ordered, in which the sins for which the lost are doomed to eternal punishment were committed, no other acts but those specific sins were possible, and these could by no possibility but have been committed; and the reason and conscience of no man, angel, or devil, will or can respond to the rectitude and justice of that doom. If it shall then appear, on the other hand,—and it will appear, if "God has made free the human will,"—that in the identical circumstances in which the lost did sin, they might, and consequently should, have "chosen the good, and refused the evil," the reason, conscience, and moral nature of every man, angel, and devil, will and must respond to the acclaim: "True and righteous are Thy judgments, O Lord, Thou King of Saints." In absolutely affirming the accordance of the moral administration of God with the necessary intuitions of the reason, conscience, and moral nature of man, the Scriptures have, in the most absolute form conceivable, affirmed the freedom of the will, and denied the doctrine of necessity.

All the commands and prohibitions, promises and threatenings, invitations and admonitions of Scripture imply the same great truth. In the Scriptures God affirms absolutely, that "He will have all men to be saved, and come to the knowledge of the truth;" and that "He has no pleasure at all in the death of the sinner, but that he should turn from his evil way, and live." "Turn ye, turn ye; for why will ye die?" God also calls upon heaven and earth to unite with Him in astonishment at the conduct of sinners in the circumstances in which He has located them. "Be astonished, O heavens, at this." "Why, when I looked that it should bring forth grapes, brought it forth wild grapes?" Suppose, that the Most High should place a mass of water on an inclined plane, and, leaving it there to the exclusive action of natural law, should express infinite wonder, and should call upon the universe to unite with Him in astonishment, that this mass should run down, instead of up, that plane. An absurdity identical with this, the Necessitarian undeniably attributes to God, in the revelations of His Word, in respect to sin and sinners. According to the fundamental principles of the Necessitarian creed, God does, in accordance with His own eternal and unchangeable foreordination, place creatures in circumstances in which no form of moral action is possible to them but the sins they do commit and must commit, and then expresses infinite wonder, and calls upon the universe to unite with Him in astonishment, that they should sin. Having—so this doctrine affirms—from eternity unchangeably foreordained their eternal doom, and having in time located them in circumstances where they cannot but sin, and "die in their sins," God affirms, under oath, that He is not willing that one of these eternally and unchangeably doomed creatures should perish. No,—I said, and now repeat,—God is not thus self-contradictory and absurd in His Divine Word, and this monstrous doctrine of necessity is, and must be, both unscriptural and false. How reasonable and right, on the other hand, do all such Scriptures appear, on the hypothesis that the will is free, and not subject to the principle of necessity! On the hypothesis that when creatures do sin, they may "choose the good and refuse the evil," the central mystery of the universe is the fact that rational beings do sin, and "the Judge of all the earth" is reasonable and right in His revelations in regard to sin and sinners.

6. One other collateral reason, of great weight, I did not overlook, in fixing and settling my faith on this great question. At the time when the inspired apostles lived, and the New Testament was written, the doctrine of necessity was distinctly held and taught among the Pharisees and leading sects among the Jews, and was a fundamental element of all the philosophies then known. The Spirit of inspiration in the apostolic writers could not have been indifferent, or silent, in respect to so fundamental a doctrine. Their views in respect to it, on the other hand, could not, from the nature of the case, have been misapprehended by their contemporaries and immediate followers. Should we find, therefore, that the leading thinkers and writers in the primitive Church not only clearly understood this subject, but, with open and united voice, opposed and reprobated the doctrine of necessity, and affirmed and advocated that of liberty, the deduction is absolute, that inspired apostles did teach and hand down this latter doctrine, as the truth of God. That such were the facts, I will now proceed to verify "by many infallible proofs."

(I.) The advocates of this doctrine of necessity, who have most carefully examined the subject, have not been able to find even a trace of their doctrine among the early writings of the primitive Church. None will question the truth of this statement.

(2.) The unanimous testimony of learned men who have fully acquainted themselves with all the facts of the case, is that the primitive Church universally held and taught the doctrine of liberty, as opposed to that of necessity. "Every one," says Mosheim, "knows that the peculiar doctrines" (among which that of necessity was most prominent) "to which the victory was assigned by the Synod (of Dort) were absolutely unknown to the first ages of the Church." Had not this assertion been strictly true, the Calvinistic translators of Mosheim, Maclame and Murdock, would, in their notes, have contradicted it. Neander, than whom no one is of higher authority in Church history, in speaking of the first three centuries of the Christian era, says, that the Church teachers "agreed unanimously in maintaining the free will of man as a necessary condition of the existence of morality." "The earliest fathers," says Bretschneider, "unanimously ascribe to man freedom of will, according to which he can choose either the good or the bad." "All the fathers," says the learned Wiggers, "differed from Augustine and agreed with the Pelagians in attributing free will to man." To the same effect is the testimony of Knapp, Dr. Whitby, and all others who have spoken upon the subject. With this testimony even Calvin fully agrees. "The Greek fathers," he says, "and among them especially Chrysostom, have exceeded bounds in extolling the power of the human will." "The Latin fathers," he says again, "have always retained the word 'free will.'" Authorities to any required amount—and all on one side exclusively, there being none on the other —might be multiplied. But these are sufficient.

(3.) The testimony of a few only of these fathers will remove all doubt on this subject. "Every created being," says Justin Martyr, in the second century, "is so constituted as to be capable of vice and virtue. For he could do nothing praiseworthy, if he had not the power of turning either way." "Unless we suppose," he says again, "that man has power to choose the good and refuse the evil, no one can be accountable for any action whatever." "God," he says once more, "has not made men like trees and brutes, without the power of election." "No reward," says Tertullian, of the same century, "can justly be bestowed, no punishment can justly be inflicted, upon him who is good or bad by necessity, and not by his own choice." "Man, a reasonable being," says Irenaeus, Bishop of Lyons, in the same century, "and in that respect like God, is made free in his will, and, having power over himself, is the cause that sometimes he becomes wheat and sometimes chaff." "What is forced," says Basil, one of the most distinguished of the ancient fathers, "is not pleasing to God, but what comes from a truly virtuous motive; and virtue comes from the will, not from necessity." "Within us," he says again, "is free will." "Forasmuch as God," says Chrysostom, "has put good and evil in our power, He has given us a free power to choose the one or the other; and as He does not retain us against our will, so He embraces us when we are willing." "God," says Jerome, "hath endowed us with free will. We are not necessarily drawn either to virtue or vice. For where necessity rules, there is no room left either for damnation or the crown." "It would be more just," says Epiphanius, "to punish the stars, which make a wicked action necessary"—this refers to the heathen notion that the stars determine destiny—"than to punish the poor man who does that wicked action by necessity." "The soul," says Origen, "does not incline to either part out of necessity, for then neither vice nor virtue could be ascribed to it; nor could its choice of virtue deserve reward, nor its declination to vice punishment." "How," he asks, "could God require that of man which he had not power to offer Him?" "Ten thousand things," says Theodoret, "may be found both in the Gospels and authorities of the apostles, clearly manifesting the liberty and self-election of man."

"How," he asks, "can He punish a nature which had no power to do good, but was bound in the bands of wickedness?" "Neither promises nor reprehensions, rewards nor punishments, are just," says Clemen[t] of Alexandria, "if the soul has not the power of choosing or abstaining." "This opinion," the doctrine of necessity, says Eusebius, "absolves sinners, as doing nothing of their own accord which was evil, and would cast all the blame of all wickedness committed in the world upon God and upon His providence." Didymus, of the fourth century, says, "And this"—the doctrine of free will—"is not only ours, but the opinion of all who speak Orthodoxly" —according to the doctrine of the universal Church—"of rational beings."

Nor was even Augustine a Necessitarian in the modern sense of the term. "They that come to Christ," he says, "ought not to impute it to themselves, because they come, being called; and they that would not come, ought not to impute it to another, but only to themselves, because, when they were called, it was in the power of their free will to come."

The above citations, taken almost at random from the mass that might be quoted clearly verify two important deductions—that the primitive fathers understood the real distinction between the doctrines of liberty and necessity, and unanimously, none dissenting, repudiated the latter doctrine, and adopted and advocated the former. Nor can this absolute unanimity be accounted for except upon one exclusive hypothesis, namely, that the doctrine thus unanimously held was in fact and form handed down to the primitive Church, and that directly and immediately, by inspired apostles as the truth of God. The doctrine of necessity, as I clearly saw, is a dark innovation upon the universal primitive faith, "the faith once" Divinely "delivered to the saints."

In thus repudiating the doctrine which I had been specifically taught from my childhood up, and which I had received as self-evident, and having, after the most careful research, gained this new and safe position, I had, as I clearly saw, reached a very far-sweeping conclusion, one which required me fundamentally to reconstruct my entire system of theology, and to "read with new eyes" the Word of God. The progress I made in accomplishing these results will be disclosed in future chapters.

CHAPTER XI.

THE GREAT WESTERN REVIVALS, 1824-1832.

WHILE the world shall stand, the great western revivals will, we may safely presume, constitute a memorable era in the history of the Church of God. Having had, from the beginning, a personal knowledge of the facts as they occurred, having been an active participator in the work and a careful observer of the events as they occurred, and "having had a perfect understanding of all things from the very first," it has seemed good to me, being the only survivor, so far as I am aware, who enjoyed such advantages, to devote one chapter of this autobiography to a special consideration of those revivals, in order that their leading characteristics, the secret of their power, and the causes of their decline, may be clearly understood by the present and coming generations.

The Autobiography of President Finney contains a detail of the facts which came under his personal observation, and with which he had an immediate connection. The careful reader of that work, however, will fail to obtain from it distinct apprehensions of the peculiar and special characteristics of these facts of the causes which induced them, and of the reasons why that cloud of mercy which overshadowed the churches, and gave promise of ever-enduring fertility, so soon dispersed, and was followed by long years of spiritual dearth. In accomplishing the object I have in view, I will in the first place present

Some general Facts and Characteristics of this great Work.

I. If we compare this with other special works of grace which have occurred before and since that period, it will be difficult, or impossible, to designate a revival equalling this either in extent or power. During the space of a single year, including portions of the years 1830 and 1831, ministers best informed stated that quite two hundred thousand converts were gathered into the churches in the United States, the number of inhabitants then being not one-third as great as now. This was the period when the work became most general and powerful, not one-fifth of the number mentioned being gathered in during any other year. It was at this period that the work took the appearance of nationality; the nation itself—the Northern States, and some of the Southern—being moved by it. Nor do we know of any other revival that in this respect can be compared with this. Nor can any other revival be pointed out which will bear comparison with this in the extent in which leading minds in the community were brought under its influence. It was not unfrequently the case that the mass of such individuals were converted, and thus an entire change was produced, not only in the religious, but in the moral state of entire communities.

2. The character of the converts in those revivals demands very especial consideration. In no revival that can be designated was the number of apostasies among converts smaller than in these. In the many powerful revivals which occurred under my own labours, I feel quite safe in expressing the judgment that not five in one hundred of the converts turned back to the world. A similar judgment may safely be passed upon these converts generally in all parts of the country. Apostasies of course did occur; and among those who turned back were some whose conversions were regarded as of the most marked character, and who for a succession of years gave the brightest promise of great usefulness. One individual, for example, whose conversion is detailed in Mr. Finney's Memoir, as a fact of national notoriety, and who for some years shone forth as a star of the first magnitude, suddenly faced about, "denied the Lord that bought him," and down to old age has not had "a name to live" among "the sons of God." I might specify other cases; but I rejoice rather to record that such instances were "few and far between."

The converts uniformly entered upon the profession of the religious life with the most clear and distinct apprehension of the totality of the sinfulness of their unregenerate lives; with the conviction equally clear and definite of the utter inexcusableness of sin in every form and degree, and of their own personal desert of eternal doom on account of their sins; with an absolute renunciation and confession of sin in all its forms; with a supreme dedication of their entire being and all their interests to the will and service of God; and with absolute and exclusive dependence upon the mercy and grace of God in Christ for pardon. On all such topics they received the most careful instructions from their teachers. They were most fully assured that a refusal to abandon any known sin, or to discharge any known duty, would hopelessly exclude them from the kingdom of God.

Conversions, occurring under such instructions and convictions, can hardly fail to be genuine. As a consequence, these converts were "known and read of all men," as "pillars" in the churches of God, as the advocates of every good cause, as the zealous promoters of every good work, and as "sowing bountifully" for the spread of the Gospel at home and abroad. Not a few professional men turned aside from profitable callings and devoted their lives to "the work of the ministry;" multitudes of young men abandoned all their worldly plans and prospects, entered the "schools of the prophets," and, having graduated there, were admitted to the sacred office; while a great number, men and women, left their homes, their kindred, and country, for missionary service in heathen lands, and there laid down their bodies, while their spirits went to everlasting homes in the kingdom of light.

One very marked peculiarity of these converts I should not fail to mention in this connection. I refer to their influence in promoting the revivals through which they were converted. Converts were then distinctly instructed, that in accepting Christ as their eternal Life, they dedicated their entire being and possessions to His kingdom and glory. Hence, from the beginning of their new life, they became active and most efficient participants in the work of saving souls. In cases not a few, revivals of great power were occasioned in places remote from any revival centre, wholly through the influence of individuals who were converted while on visits of business or pleasure at such centres. During my first pastorate, for example, when a powerful work of grace was going on around me, a stranger, with his wife, called upon me, one morning just after breakfast. They came from a neighbouring township, where there was no revival, and no minister settled at the time over any of its churches. But the influence of the work in Rochester, where Mr. Finney was preaching, had reached them. They informed me that they had called for one exclusive purpose—to know "what they should do to be saved." After receiving needful instruction, they unitedly and deliberately commended themselves to the mercy and grace of God in Christ Jesus. When we rose from prayer, the husband, after bowing his head for a few moments in deep thought, uttered these words: "The Lord is my portion. From this moment, I have nothing to live for but to serve and glorify Him." With my blessing, they "went on their way rejoicing." On returning home, they, the husband especially, began at once to stir up the members of the church, and to press their former associates in sin to come to Christ. The result was an addition of more than two hundred souls to the churches in that township.

When Brother Finney was labouring in Philadelphia in the spring of 1829, and when the Delaware river was high, many lumbermen, who came to the city from the northern part of the State, were drawn into his meetings, and were there "soundly converted." They came from a region where there were no churches or ministers of any kind. On their return to their homes, they gathered the people together, told them of the wonderful work of God which they had witnessed, and of their own conversion, and exhorted all around to seek "the great salvation." The result was, that, wholly through the labours and prayers of these young converts, churches were afterwards organised in those regions numbering more than five thousand souls. Such were the spirit and character of these converts everywhere.

There was a very wide, and, in our judgment, a very melancholy, contrast between the character of the converts gathered through these revivals, and those gathered through that which occurred about the year 1857. It has been recorded, and is often spoken of, as the glory of this last work, that it was begun and carried on almost exclusively by prayer. "Prayer ardent" never more widely opened heaven than during the great revivals above treated of. But prayer then brought down the power of the Spirit, and thus moved all the energies of the mental being, loosened the tongue, prompted to fervent exhortation, to personal appeals, and to visitations from house to house; while from the pulpit now "a violated law spoke out its thunders," and then, "in strains as sweet as angels use, the Gospel whispered peace." This was in strong contrast to the manifestations in the revival of 1857. In the public gatherings of that revival services would be commenced with a hymn, and reading a passage of Scripture. Then several prayers would be offered. Again there would be singing, followed by prayers as before, and so on to the close. Speaking to saints or sinners did not appear to be welcome in those meetings, while preaching was not characterised, for the most part, by fervency of spirit. I then said, as I had opportunity, to ministers and church members, that if their prayers should not avail to open their mouths to exhort sinners to repent, and believers to active labours for the conversion of souls, the revival would be a comparative failure; and so, to a great extent, it proved. The younger Dr. Duffield spoke to me at the time of the marked contrast in the character of the converts in these two revivals. "Converts in those old revivals," he remarked, "seemed to be filled with spiritual vitality from their birth. Now we have to examine our so-called convert with great care before we can determine whether he has, or has not, the breath of spiritual life in him."

3. The influence of these revivals upon believers already members of the churches, requires very special notice. I had been but a short time in the ministry, before I distinctly uttered, in the interior of my own mind, these identical words: "We are on the eve of a great and general revival of religion, or our churches will, ere long, become extinct." My reasons for that conviction were twofold: the general and embittered opposition to religion itself, and the appalling neglect of religious services, on the part of the unconverted outside the churches, on the one hand; and the utter worldliness and indifference to the interests of souls and the cause of religion itself on the part of professors of Christianity, on the other. No one not personally acquainted with the facts as they were can conceive how appalling these two aspects of the moral and religious state of the community then appeared. In the spring and summer of 1830, months before Mr. Finney came to Rochester, and before it was known that he had thought of doing so, a visible change, from no known cause, came over the public mind. Scoffing at sacred things, and bitter opposition to religious truth, spontaneously disappeared. Our congregations on the Sabbath gradually increased, while an unwonted solemnity rested upon them in all sacred exercises. This was attended with occasional conversions in various directions. These facts I heard referred to by various ministers. They made manifest the gathering of the cloud far in the heavens above us, while the windows of heaven were not yet opened.

When it was heard that Mr. Finney was contemplating a visit to Rochester, the intelligence was received with deep regret by the entire ministry, as far as I know, in Western New York, such was the impression which had generally obtained there in regard to the character of the revivals under his preaching. One of our most influential pastors said to me that if we should hear that he was likely to come among us, the Presbyterian and Congregational ministers must forward to him a united protest against his advent. Before anything was done, however, he appeared in Rochester, and commenced preaching in the Third Presbyterian Church, which was then without a pastor. Such was the power which, from the first, attended his preaching, and such was its character, that he was very soon invited to the pulpits of the two other Presbyterian churches in the city. Ministers and leading members of the churches from all directions visited the city, and "when they had seen the grace of God they were glad," gave testimony to the truth while there, and returned home to testify to their own people, with renewed fervency, "the Gospel of the grace of God." Numbers, also, of unconverted men and women, many of them of leading influence, visited the city, and returned home, not only "new creatures in Christ Jesus," but burdened with burning desire and zeal for the salvation of their former associates in worldliness and sin. The first result was the disappearance of all opposition to Mr. Finney and the work of God under his influence, and unity of spirit in prayer and labours for the conversion of sinners, such as had characterised no preceding work of grace. I refer now to the entire region of Middle and Western New York. The crowning result was the "opening of the windows of heaven, and the pouring out" of such blessings as our nation had never before witnessed.

Unity of spirit, and unity of effort for the salvation of sinners, were not the only or the most marked characteristic of these revivals, in their influence upon professing Christians. Throughout the churches there were great "searchings of heart." Believers generally were led to careful and deep self-examination, and to a thorough reconstruction of their entire Christian character and life. What had been wrong between brethren was carefully and fully adjusted; sins against God and men were confessed and forsaken, and the religious life was started anew, upon the principle of supreme consecration to Christ. The doctrine was everywhere clearly and impressively set forth that no acceptable service could be rendered to Christ with a divided heart, and that only in a state of total separation from all sin, and supreme devotion to the will and service of God, would He pardon our sins, hear our prayers, "be our God," and receive us as "His sons and daughters." Never in the history of the world, as I believe, were Christians more sincere, ardent, and single-hearted, than at the period to which I refer.

"The spirit of grace and of supplications" then poured out upon believers was another most marked characteristic of these revivals. "Having sinners upon the heart," "burdened with souls," "spending nights in prayer," and "having power with God and with men,"—these were common expressions at that time, and characterised what actually took place. I knew cases in which whole families were converted, and communities were moved from centre to circumference, from no other assignable cause.

During my pastorate at Pittsford, N.Y., and while the great revival was in progress, having occasion to visit Rochester, I was met by a Christian friend, who, rushing towards me, exclaimed, "Do, Brother Mahan, call at once at our house. Our precious mother has just died, and we are all in great anguish." As I entered, I saw a large group of sons and daughters, and their companions, weeping about that bed of death. On the bed lay that lifeless body, just as the spirit had left it, less than half an hour previous. But such a countenance I never looked upon before or since. Two expressions lay upon it with the most impressive distinctness,—of intense supplication and entreaty, and of the most ecstatic joy. The manner of her death was in this wise. At the commencement of the revival, she set her whole heart upon the conversion of every one of her children and their companions. Each in turn was, with the intensest fervency, borne to the throne of grace, until all but a tenderly beloved son-in-law were converted. Her whole being was centred upon him. So intense did her desires and prayers become that she was, at length, necessitated to retire to her bed. While engaged there in intense supplication, one of her sons came in, and, with great joy upon his countenance, said, "Mother, brother is converted. A little while ago, he gave his heart to God." "O my head!" exclaimed the mother, pressing her hand upon her forehead, and never stirring or breathing after that. The facts stated explained the appearance of that countenance, as well as the cause of death.

An ungodly and reckless son of a mother in Israel had gone to a distance from home, and was engaged in a form of business in which he was exposed to temptation of the most perilous character. The mother took the case to the throne of grace for months, and pressed it there with an intensity of supplication almost too great for her physical strength. At length the burden was suddenly rolled from her spirit, and further supplication seemed impossible. To her friends around her she said, "My son is either converted or dead. I cannot pray for him any more." At the very moment when that burden was rolled away, as near as could be discovered, that son, when lying in jail for crime, was converted, and subsequently, as a preacher of the Gospel, won thousands of souls to Christ. It was very common at that time for burdens to be taken from praying souls at the very moment when the individuals prayed for were converted, even when the parties were at unknown distances from each other. Of a daughter of that mother it was said that, go where she would, the community around her would soon be moved by a deep religious influence, and that from no known cause but her prayers, she not being a public speaker at all. Similar remarks were made with regard to a half-sister of mine. In all the region round where she lived, her name was "as ointment poured forth," and all on account of her godly life, and mighty power at the throne of grace.

I must refer to one case more. Soon after my settlement in Cincinnati, a gentleman from New Richmond, a village on the Ohio river some twenty or more miles above the city, called upon me. He was a convert from those Western Revivals, and had settled and married in that village. His mind seemed to be burdened with that whole people. One man was never absent from his thoughts—his father-in-law, who was a wealthy and influential man, but a violent atheist. That man must be saved. Every few months the son-in-law would visit me, to induce me to go up there and labour for a revival of religion. I was ready to go when the way was open, but neither pastors nor churches could be induced to move in the matter. Soon after my removal to Oberlin, I received a letter and then a visit from him, and all for one purpose, to induce brother Finney or myself to go back with him and labour for the salvation of that people. No invitation, however, came to either of us except from this one man. So he returned alone. At length, from no visible cause, a cloud of mercy overshadowed that place, and flooded it with salvation. One of the greatest revivals occurred there that was ever known in the United States, and that father-in-law was one of the first converts. The Rev. [James Barr] Walker, D.D., author of The Philosophy of the Plan of Salvation, became, for a time, pastor of the Presbyterian church of that place. In a written account of the results of that revival, Dr. Walker said that New Richmond was the most godly place he ever knew, Oberlin excepted; and that that father-in-law was one of the most godly men he ever met with. He further stated that no one doubted at all that the sole cause of that work of grace was, the example and prayers of that one man. But what became of that man of God? When he saw the revival in full power, and that father-in-law a saint of God, the spectacle was too much for his physical strength. His vital powers gave way, and his spirit went to its reward.

It is hardly presumptuous, I judge, to express the belief that the world now feels, and ever will feel, the influence of the prayers of father Nash, that holy man who was at last found in his closet, on his knees dead before God; a very fitting place and condition for such a man to die in. He could never, after the Holy Ghost fell upon him, be in any place for any considerable time, without the whole population around being moved through his prayers. He was accustomed to set apart days of fasting and prayer for different nations and portions of the earth, and especially for each missionary station in heathen lands. In his journal, after his death, was found recorded such a memorandum as this, in respect to every missionary station of the American Board in India, the date and place being mentioned in each instance: "I think I have this day had a spirit of prayer for this station." So on in regard to each station in succession. In turning to the Missionary Herald, it was found there recorded, that at the time and day specified a revival of religion actually commenced in each station in succession; the date of the prayer and the commencement of the revival being, in every case, exactly coincident.

The Decline.

It would seem, at first thought, that a revival of such pre-eminent characteristics and power would never know a decline; and that old believers, who had thus "renewed their strength," and had started anew upon the principle of supreme consecration, and who had placed themselves under such solemn vows never again to "grieve the Holy Spirit of God," and converts imbued with such a spirit, and encircled with such associations, would never backslide. Yet but a few years intervened before "the glory departed." Nothing, as Mr. Finney states in his Memoir, could arrest the fixed tendency in the churches to backslide; and what was most remarkable was the fact, as brother Finney states, that old professors were uniformly the first to fall back, and drag the converts after them. What was peculiar about the state of things was the fact, that revival measures, protracted meetings, for example, in a few years, lost almost all their power. Many of those churches, also, in which the revival had existed with the greatest power, and which had received the greatest number of converts, remained longest without the return of such Divine visitations. In instances not a few, a visible reluctance to re-engage in any revival measures would be manifested. About the time, for example, when I commenced my labours in Cincinnati, a special meeting of great power was held at Oxford, the seat of the State University, a meeting which resulted in the addition of upwards of one hundred converts to the Presbyterian church in the place. Several years after that, I inquired of the pastor of that church, the Rev. — Little, how those converts had held out. His reply was, that all had held out well, with the exception of four or five, with whom there had been not a little trouble. No persuasion, he added, could induce his church, the older and most influential members especially, to consent to the holding again of any such special services. Whenever the measure was proposed, reference would be had, at once, to the immense trouble they had had with those four or five apostates; no account being taken of the one hundred souls saved from death. Instances not unlike that were not few nor far between among our most favoured churches.

Among the majority of the pastors and evangelists who had the greatest power during these revivals there was, after the period of Divine visitation had passed, a loss of such power, a loss from which they never recovered. I will refer to two cases in illustration. The minister in the first case had, no doubt, greater revival power, and was more frequently called to the aid of other churches, than any other pastor in the United States. So he continued during that period, and for some years after. About the year 1842, while I was spending our winter vacation in Boston, he spent between two and three months in special services in Park Street Church. Morning prayer meetings, and special services during the day, were constantly held, and preaching each evening, all very largely attended. After these services had been continued for about two months, a member of that church said to the pastor of the church where I was preaching, "We hope that two conversions have occurred in connection with Mr. —'s labours in our church. We do not wish the matter talked about, however, as we do not desire to get up an excitement." Such was the exact report made to me, and such were the results of the labours referred to. After a while, that pastor, who was then in his meridian, discontinued such efforts for life. The second case was my immediate successor in the pastoral office in Cincinnati. In all those great revivals he had been one of our most powerful and successful preachers. During his pastorate in that city, he put forth his best efforts, and preached all his great revival discourses, discourses under which hundreds of souls had been converted. But all to very little purpose, and his power as a preacher was never renewed.

It is with pain that I refer to the evangelists of that era. Among them all—and I was personally acquainted with nearly every one of them—I cannot recall a single man, brother Finney and father Nash excepted, who did not after a few years lose his unction, and become equally disqualified for the office of evangelist and that of pastor. The individual who, next to Mr. Finney, had the widest popularity and influence, when in the meridian of life, left the ministry, and lived and died a banker, manifesting no disposition to preach the Gospel to any class of men. The individual who probably stood next to him, after a series of years of most successful labour, retired into the far Western States, and I could never learn even his whereabouts. One who was very constantly with Mr. Finney, and laboured, for a time, as his successor in Chatham Street Chapel, in the City of New York, abandoned wholly the evangelical faith. Another, a preacher of great power, first joined Noyes, the Free Lover, and then the infidel abolitionists of the Garrison school. What finally became of him I never learned.

I refer to but one other case from the painful catalogue before me. This individual probably had as great power over his audiences as any that can be named, and multitudes were no doubt won to Christ through his influence. While I was a student at Andover, our Professor of Rhetoric, Dr. Porter, one of the most accurate judges of a sermon in the world, visited Saratoga for his health, during our summer vacation. He found this evangelist there also for rest and recuperation. Great interest was manifested to hear him preach, and he at length consented to do so. On his return, Dr. Porter gave his class an account of that discourse, pronouncing it the most remarkable one he had ever heard. The subject was, "Elijah in prayer on the top of Carmel." "During the discourse," said the doctor, "the entire audience seemed to be lifted up into the unveiled presence of the Infinite and Eternal Mind, and to be speaking to God face to face. I do not believe," he added, "that there is another man in the world that could lift an audience to such a fearful height and then let them down again without a palpable failure in the lifting up or letting down. The discourse, however, was a perfect success in both and in all respects." The last time I met that evangelist was when, in company with a minister, a special friend of his, I was on my way from Oberlin to Cleveland. He told us in parting, that he had just left a great revival, and was on his way, for absolutely necessary rest, to visit his friends in Michigan. We afterwards learned that he was going as a fugitive from the legal liabilities of his vices, and he subsequently, I believe, led a kind of vagabond life. Among the most spiritual members of the churches those revivals were finally followed by the most sorrowful conscious failures of their former fixed purposes and fond hopes, and by such groaning "bondage under the law of sin and death" as, perhaps, was never heard of before. The students that came to us at Oberlin from Lane Seminary and the churches generally, were from among the brightest converts in these revivals. Yet their common experience was represented in the words:—

"Where is the blessedness I knew,

When first I saw the Lord?"

The general inquiry also was, "How can we recover the brightness of that rising?" So it was with believers generally.

Causes of the Decline.

Facts of Christian experience and life so general, so dishonouring to religion itself and so contrary to the most cherished expectation of the ministry and churches, must have their origin in causes which lie very deep in human nature itself and greatly need to be understood, that their disastrous effects may be prevented in future. Of these causes, as they lie clearly and distinctly before my own mind, after careful observation and reflection, of many years' continuance, I will specify the following as demanding special consideration.

I. As one important cause, I would notice what may be designated as a leading characteristic of these revivals, namely, their controversial character. Between different denominations the lines were then very distinctly drawn and wherever a work of grace was in progress each sect, for the most part, carried forward the work within its own circle, independently of every other, while the peculiarities of each would be a matter of frequent discussion among the others. Thus, sectarian bitterness often limited the operations of free grace, and induced a spirit unfavourable to a return of such visitations. Individuals living in this period of widespread Christian union can hardly conceive how disastrously the sectarian spirit then operated. The great dread of pastors and evangelists, at the commencement of a revival, would be the creeping in of some unimportant issue, to divert the public mind and the attention of converts and inquirers to some sectarian dogma, such as the mode of baptism. In some cases, Mr. Finney found it necessary to stop preaching to sinners, and settle such issues, before he could go forward successfully with the work. After the converts were gathered in, and were about to determine their church connections, these issues would become the all-absorbing subject of thought and discussion with them and the members of the churches. Thus, at the turning period of the Christian life, attention was permanently diverted from the only vital subjects of concern, and fixed in the direction of controversies which only deaden soul growth and culture.

During the progress of these revivals, also, certain "new measures," as they were then called, were introduced, and attracted much public attention, and occasioned no little disputation in the churches. I refer to the use of "inquiry seats," and the introduction of the practice of females praying and speaking in social meetings. There arose, at that time also, questions of vital interest, in public regard, in respect to the proper mode of directing inquiring sinners, as to whether they should be exhorted and directed to "seek religion" and "pray for new hearts," or to at once forsake sin, submit to God, and commit the interests of their soul's eternity to Christ. In favour of the "new measures," and the doctrine of immediate and unconditional submission, Mr. Finney and others were very zealous, and often assailed the opposite views with such violence and ridicule as, in my judgment at the time, to give needless offence to sister denominations, and to many ministers and members of our own. Evangelists who took their cue from Mr. Finney pressed such issues far beyond what he deemed prudent. Thus, thought and discourse were very much diverted from what was to the convert of absolutely vital concernment, to non-essentials; all adding to the force of the causes which induced the backslidings which ensued.

The era of these revivals, we must bear in mind, was the era, throughout the Presbyterian and Congregational churches in the United States, of one of the most protracted and embittered doctrinal controversies ever known in the history of the Church of God; a controversy which, a few years after, led to the disruption of the entire Presbyterian denomination. The parties in this controversy took the name of Old School and New School. The former adhered literally and unqualifiedly to the entire teachings of the Confession of Faith, and maintained that any denial, or essential modification, on the part of any Presbyterian minister, of any doctrine, clearly set forth in the Confession, was a violation of his oath of office, and a just subject of discipline, he having at his ordination accepted and adopted the said Confession, "as containing the system of doctrine taught in the Scriptures." In all discussions, the Old School refused to allow of any appeal to Scripture, the only question to be raised being, "What saith the Confession of Faith?" In two vital respects the New was at open issue with the Old School. The former denied utterly any such relations, on the part of the Presbyterian minister, as the latter contended for. The Confession itself, as they showed, denied to itself, in fact and form, any such authority as the Old School contended for; that instrument affirming absolutely, that not itself, but "the Scriptures of the Old and New Testaments are the only all-authoritative, all-sufllcient, and infallible rule of faith and practice, and the only authoritative standard of appeal and judgment in all questions of doctrine and duty." On these points the teachings of the Confession are perfectly plain and explicit. Hence, as the New School justly claimed, if, in any respects, the Confession teaches what is unscriptural, and any one discovers and points out the error, the Confession itself commends him, and all are bound to commend, instead of imputing crime to him. Then, in all trials for heresy, the Confession requires that the judicatory, trying the case, shall first of all inquire whether the error charged is essential, plainly contrary to Scripture, or of corrupt tendency. If none of these is found to be true, the body is prohibited issuing the case at all. Finally, the Confession makes specific provision for its own amendment. According to the Old School construction, as the New School rightly contended, the instrument could not be changed at all, until after two-thirds of the ministers and elders, in the whole Presbyterian body, had violated their oaths of office, and forfeited all right to a standing in the denomination at all. In all respects, as far as the Confession of Faith is concerned, the position of the New School was impregnable; that instrument being not at all arbitrary, but truly catholic in its spirit and principles.

In respect to doctrinal issues, the New School stood at the antipodes of the Five Points of high Calvinism; denying utterly the imputation of Adam's sin to any of his posterity; denying, also, that God holds the entire race "as deserving His wrath and curse, not only in this world, but in that which is to come," not only for the one sin of Adam, but for the possession of a nature which, without any knowledge, choice, or agency on their part, and wholly by the generating agency of God Himself they derived from Adam; affirming the universality of the atonement, of the offer of free grace through Christ, and of the influences of the Spirit; asserting that, as moral agents, men are endowed with free will, by which they have available power to yield to the strivings of the Spirit, accept of mercy and grace through Christ, and thus attain to eternal life; that "God is not willing that ANY should perish," but "will have all men to be saved, and to come to the knowledge of the truth;" and finally, that the decree of election and reprobation is not arbitrary, but based upon foreseen acceptance and rejection of free grace and mercy. The Old School in the Congregational denomination rejected the doctrine of the imputation of Adam's sin, and of our desert of eternal doom for a nature derived from Adam, and the doctrine of a particular atonement; but agreed with the Old School among the Presbyterians in respect to the doctrine of decrees, of eternal and unconditional election and reprobation, of the necessity of all human volitions and choices, the real inability of sinners to accept of offered grace and mercy, and the granting of the converting influences of the Spirit to the elect only, giving to the non-elect such influences only as result in their increased guilt and condemnation.

Such were the great doctrinal issues which were joined during the progress of these revivals, and which continued to agitate the churches during their continuance, and for years thereafter. As these revivals were everywhere identified with those New School views, they, and the measures by which they were promoted, became objects of open opposition on the part of the Old School generally, and revivals in every form everywhere disappeared from these churches. Then the bitterness with which the controversy was carried on by this school very generally, was utterly incompatible with the indwelling and cooperation of the Holy Spirit. I will present a single fact in illustration. The known leader of the Old School party in Ohio, Kentucky, and Indiana, was the pastor of the first Presbyterian Church in Cincinnati. With his New School brethren he, and those who sympathised with him, would have no more social intercourse than they would with a band of known thieves and robbers. While I was living there, one of my former instructors in College called upon me, and, with his wife and several children, spent some days at my house. He was on his way north from Mobile, where he had spent several years in teaching. While there, he witnessed the death, and presided at the funeral, of a son of Dr. W., and he called upon him to express his sympathy with him in his great affliction. When introduced into the pastor's study, Professor Lathrop remarked that as he was stopping for a few days with Mr. Mahan, an old pupil of his, and had witnessed the death, and presided at the funeral of a son of the doctor, he had called to express his deep sympathy. Without even asking the stranger to take a seat, the doctor promptly and indignantly replied, "I have no wish, sir, to receive a call from any man coming from the house where you are putting up, nor from the branch of our church to which you, no doubt, belong." Professor Lathrop with tears related the above facts to me on his return to my house. This is an extreme case. It illustrates, however, the truth of the utterance, that there is no form of fanaticism so inveterate and repellent as the odium theologicum

On the part of the New School, while there was no disposition to compromise truth, there was the strongest desire to conciliate, and co-operate in every good word and work. With them, also, the exclusive appeal was to the Word of God. One form of argument they did employ, and, as I thought, to too great an extent—the argument called reductio ad absurdum. Mr. Finney employed this argument with great power, and many pastors and all the evangelists followed his example. The absurdity of the leading features of high Calvinism were set forth in every conceivable form, thus introducing lightness into religious thought. I give a single illustration. In May, 1832, just after the great revivals of the previous autumn and winter, the General Assembly of the Presbyterian Church of the United States of America met in the City of Philadelphia. The issue of national and world interest, to be decided then, was the case of the Rev. Albert Barnes, which came up for final action by appeal from the decision of his Synod, a decision by which he had been deposed from the ministry and excommunicated from the Presbyterian Church under a charge of heresy. When it was ascertained, by the election of moderator, that a large majority of the body were New School, and that Mr. Barnes was safe, a number of the leading New School members went together one day to view the wonderful water-works on the Schuylkill River above the city. These brethren came from the heart of those revivals. As they were standing there, one of them, taking out his pencil and turning to the perpendicular rock behind them, wrote upon it the couplet:—

"In Adam's fall

We sinned all."

Another then wrote beneath that:—

"In Abel's murder

We sinned furder."

A third then wrote:—

"In Tubal-Cain

We sinned again."

Finally another wrote:—

"In Dr. Green

Our sin is seen."

Dr. Green was the known leader of the Old School wing of the Presbyterian Church. As a member of the Assembly at the time, I deeply regretted such an occurrence, and foreshadowed, in my own mind, the loss of moral and spiritual power on the part of those brethren which apprehension was subsequently realised.

Under such circumstances, nothing could be expected but a decline of those revivals. In the first place, religion itself was fatally dishonoured before the world. During the meetings of that Assembly, and whenever it met in subsequent years, the expression would be heard among worldly persons throughout the city, "See how these Christians love one another!" and that exclamation was everywhere repeated throughout the country. Thus, within the church, and among the young converts, religious thought and discourse were diverted from the subject of personal holiness, and saving souls from death, to discussions and disputations about doctrines which had in them no soul vitality.

One common and most melancholy result was, the introduction among the members of the churches, among the young converts especially, of the pride of doctrinal knowledge. Meet a young convert then, and you would hardly fail to notice in him the spirit, the "puffing up," of the self-conscious theologian. All the influences around him tended to induce such a spirit. "I attend church, not from any good that I expect from the services, but as an example to others. These ministers cannot teach me: I understand the whole subject already." Such were the exact sentiments, and the very words, as far as I can repeat them, uttered to me, during that period, by a professedly Christian woman in the city of New York. She had been very active and influential in the revivals. Years after that, I heard of her as a blubbering Perfectionist, practising, it was believed, the abominations of the sect. Of the students collected at Lane Seminary, prior to the secession already described, students coming from these revivals, several of the most talented among them seldom or never worshipped in any of the congregations in the city on the Sabbath. They simply attended one service at the chapel, and there listened to one of the feeblest preachers I ever knew. The reason openly avowed by these young men for their conduct was, that they could receive no benefit from the discourses of Dr. Beecher or any other pastor in the city. The discourses of that feeble preacher, they said, were as instructive and beneficial to them, as those of any other preacher. They understood the whole subject. Of these young men, every one, as far as I could learn, afterwards made shipwreck of the faith. Only one or two of them entered the ministry at all, and they soon after left it, under the influence of some of the absurdities that then obtained.

These are extreme cases. They show, however, the tendency of the spirit, the pride of doctrinal knowledge, that then prevailed in the churches, a spirit utterly incompatible with deep spirituality and growth in grace. This is the spirit which too often rules in the hearts of graduates from our Theological Seminaries. "We are the men: We are the theologians." This is the form of knowledge to which Inspiration refers in the declarations, "Knowledge puffeth up;" "And if any man think that HE knoweth anything, he knoweth nothing yet as he ought to know." No one that knows me ever supposed that I undervalued doctrinal knowledge. Other things being equal, our power for service in the kingdom of God will be according to the extent and clearness of our knowledge of Christian doctrine. Yet an individual may have the most extended and accurate knowledge of all the doctrines of Scripture, and be perfectly taught in the sciences of matter and spirit, and yet be as blankly ignorant as an idiot of that "knowledge of the Only Living and True God, and Jesus Christ whom He hath sent," which has in it the elements of "life eternal."

For the attainment of knowledge in the first form our natural powers and advantages are adequate. For the attainment of knowledge in the second and higher form, we are as absolutely dependent upon God, as we are for the pardon of sin. The one is as much a gift of grace as is the other. When we would know the doctrine of the Divinity and incarnation of Christ, of atonement, of regeneration, &c., the revealed Word is before us, and even ungodly men may attain to the clearest apprehensions of such doctrines. Nor has such knowledge in itself any sanctifying or life-imparting power. But when we would be personally "known of Christ, and know Him, even as the Father knoweth Him, and He knoweth the Father," when we would "know that He is in the Father, and He in us, and we in Him," when we would "behold with open face as in a glass the glory of the Lord;" when we would "comprehend the breadth, and length, and depth, and height, and know the Love of Christ, which passeth knowledge," and be able to say, "And truly our fellowship is with the Father, and with His Son Jesus Christ;" here is a form of knowledge without which, whatever else we know, we are, for all effective service in the kingdom of grace, as "sounding brass or a tinkling cymbal;" a form of knowledge to which we can by no possibility attain, but as the Spirit by supernatural illumination enlightens "the eyes of our understandings," and "takes of the things of Christ, and SHOWS them unto us." Before we can possess this knowledge, and know what our Saviour meant when He said, "He that believeth in Me, as the Scripture hath said, out of his belly shall flow rivers of living water," we must be wholly emptied of all pride of self-knowledge and self-sufficiency, recognise our absolute dependence upon Divine illumination, and, as "babes," seek to be "taught of God." He that is conscious of mere doctrinal knowledge will naturally exalt himself, and think little of others. He that is really and truly "taught of God" will ever be meek, humble, and teachable, and will glory only in the cross of Christ, and the Spirit of Grace by Whom he is made to "know the things which are freely given us of God."

The final and inevitable result of that long-continued and embittered controversy, a controversy which violently dismembered the whole Presbyterian church, was most disastrous to the cause of vital religion. I refer to the reaction which followed, a reaction which induced indifference to truth itself, together with a prejudice against discriminating teachings and elucidations of Christian doctrine. Upstart preachers swarmed in the churches, who taught the people that "true religion is not a doctrine, but a life," as if there could be life, spiritual life, without "a belief of the truth," and as if the real mission of the true preacher and member of the body of Christ were not to "contend earnestly for the faith once delivered to the saints." One of the leading themes of those preachers was a denunciation of creeds. When I listen to such teachings, I say within myself, "The preacher has in his mind an unevangelical creed, which he intends to insinuate into the churches," and I never yet found myself mistaken in any such case. For the spirit of exclusion and disfellowship, "which made a man an offender for a word," there thus obtained, in the reaction under consideration, a miscalled "charity," which fellowshipped anything that bore the name of religion, and prepared the way for the introduction into the churches of a semi-Unitarianism, Universalism, and infidelity. In place of the clear, discriminating, and heart-searching teachings, the thundering appeals to conscience, and the impressive calls to "repentance toward God, and faith toward our Lord Jesus Christ," there followed a form of teaching which did, indeed, select texts from the Bible, but chose subjects which lay as far outside of the heart and life of the Gospel as can be conceived. I once, for example, listened on a Sabbath evening to a discourse from a very popular preacher of this school. The text was 2 Cor. iv. 6: "For God, Who commanded light to shine out of darkness," &c. "Now," I said to myself, "we shall have a 'feast of fat things,' the true wine of the sanctuary." What was the subject of that discourse? The preacher selected from the text the term "light," and, without an allusion to any Gospel truth whatever, gave a very impressive and instructive scientific analysis and exposition of the properties of natural light. "That man," I said to myself, "is a bastard preacher of the Gospel of Christ." Subsequent events verified that judgment. After utterly ruining two of our evangelical churches in two of our cities, he presided for a time over a Unitarian church in a third city, where he was known as a most bitter reviler of revivals of religion, and of the evangelical faith. After a few years, he left the ministry which he should never have entered. The object of such preachers was, not the conversion of sinners, nor "the edification of the body of Christ," but sensation, saying something which would excite the wonder, surprise, and admiration of the hearer. Thus was originated a form of teaching which had great popularity for a time, and which a leading member of the secular press rightly denominated "the Gospel of Gush." The facts above adduced sufficiently account for the decline of those great revivals.

The Doctrine of Ability, as then taught.

That these causes may be fully understood, I must refer to the form in which the doctrine of ability was then taught. In opposition to the doctrines of natural and moral inability previously taught, the New School affirmed the absolute freedom of the human will. Hence they maintained that in the circumstances and under the influences in and under which the evil is chosen, the good may be chosen; and that man, in conmon with all rationals, has power to accept mercy, and obey the requirements of God. As opposed to old error, and in removing a great stumbling-block out of the way of sinners, the preaching of that doctrine had great influence in promoting these revivals. Yet, as then taught, it had in it, as half truths always have, the elements of fatal error. We are free agents: but the freedom which we and all creatures possess is a dependent one. Of us it will remain eternally true, that "we are not sufficient of ourselves to think" (much less do) "anything as of ourselves: but our sufficiency is of God." Light and grace are provided and rendered available; by availing ourselves of these we "may stand perfect and complete in all the will of God." We are free to avail, or not to avail, ourselves of this light and grace. Refusing or neglecting to do this, we have no available power for anything but sin. Teaching the doctrine of ability as an absolute and not dependent power, tends to induce, not faith in God and His grace, but self-assurance, self-dependence, and the pride of self-sufficiency and self-righteousness. Let any angel in heaven, or any man on earth, entertain the idea that he has, as merely possessed of free will, sufficiency in himself, and he will fall in a moment, the mere entertaining the sentiment being itself a fall.

The teaching of the doctrine of ability, as it then was taught, was a leading cause of the ultimate decline of those revivals. No man can, by any possibility, live the life in the flesh which God requires him to live, but upon the condition that he can say with Paul—Gal. ii. 20, as rightly translated by Alford—"I have been crucified with Christ; and it is no longer I that live, but Christ that liveth in me; yea, the life which I now live in the flesh I live by the faith of the Son of God, Who loved me, and gave Himself for me." We may "have grace whereby we may serve God acceptably with reverence and godly fear." Without such grace such service is absolutely impossible to us; and we are free to accept or reject that grace. "I," says our Saviour, "can of Mine own Self do nothing." How infinite the presumption for us to entertain the sentiment that we, in the mere power of our own free wills, can do all the will of God, or anything at all!

Disciplining Believers.

One other error, which almost universally obtained in those revivals, and which is lamentably common at the present time, demands special consideration as a condition of understanding the real causes of the decline of those revivals. I refer to the principle on which the young converts and older believers who desired to lead a new life, were started on the line of obedience. The sum of the instruction given was this: an utter renunciation of all sin, and, as far as possible, a full rectification of the effects of all acts of past disobedience, in the first instance; an absolute and undivided consecration of the entire being and possessions to Christ, and His service and glory, in the next; and, finally, starting into the future with full purpose of heart to render perfect obedience to every indication of the Divine will. No individual, I believe, ever disciplined believers so severely, and with such intense and tireless perseverance, on that principle, as my brother Finney, before he learned the way of the Lord more perfectly.¹ Appalled at the backslidings which followed those revivals, his most earnest efforts were put forth to induce among believers permanence in the Divine life. In accomplishing this, he knew of but one method, absolute and fixed renunciation of sin, consecration to God, and purpose of obedience. During his pastorate in Chatham Street Chapel, N.Y., for example, he held for weeks in succession special meetings of his church for perfecting this work, and never were a class of poor creatures carried through a severer process of discipline than were these. Years after, as their pastor informed me, those believers affirmed that they had never recovered from the internal weakness and exhaustion which had resulted from the terrible discipline through which Mr. Finney had carried them, and this was all the good that had resulted from his efforts.

When he came to Oberlin, and entered upon the duties of his Professorship, he felt that God had given him a blessed opportunity to realise in perfection his ideal of a ministry for the churches. He had before him a mass of talented and promising theological students, who had implicit confidence in the wisdom of their teacher, and with equal sincerity would follow his instructions and admonitions. He accordingly, for months in succession, gathered together those students at stated seasons, instructed them most carefully in regard to the nature of the renunciation of sin, consecration to Christ, and purpose of obedience, required of them. Then, under his teachings and admonitions, they would renew their renunciations, consecrations, and purposes of obedience, with all the intensity and fixedness of resolve of which their natures were capable. The result, in every case, was one and the same, not the new life, and joy, and peace, and power that were anticipated, but groaning bondage under the law of sin and death. At the commencement, and during the progress of each meeting, their confessions and renunciations, their solemn consecrations and vows of obedience, were renewed, if possible, with fuller determination than ever before. Each meeting, however, was closed with the same dirge song:—

"Look how we grovel here below;"

"Where is the blessedness I knew,

When first I saw the Lord?"

Or:—

"Return, O Holy Dove, return."

And as they went out, not their songs of joy and gladness were heard, but their groans became more and more terribly audible. "They followed," and followed hard, "after the law of righteousness, but did not attain to the law of righteousness. Wherefore? Because they sought it not by faith, but as it were by the works of the law;" that is, by self-originated efforts and determinations.

How different from all this were the method and instructions and admonitions of our Saviour and His inspired apostles! "Abide," not in your own self-originated renunciations, consecrations, and purposes, but "in Me, and I in you." "As the branch cannot bear fruit of itself except it abide in the vine, no more can ye, except ye abide in Me." When the time came for Christ to assume the functions of the sacred office, in the ordinance of baptism He dedicated Himself to the work which the Father had given Him to do, and then, upon His knees, on the banks of Jordan, "waited the promise of the Father," until "the Holy Ghost came upon Him." Finally, after His sojourn in the wilderness, He went out upon His mission, not in the power of self-consecrations and self-determinations, but "in the power of the Spirit." At His last interview with His disciples, our Saviour, having laid out before them their world-mission, "commanded them that they should not depart from Jerusalem, but wait the promise of the Father." "In prayer and supplication" they "with one accord" did wait until "the Pentecost was fully come," when "they were all filled with the Holy Ghost," and went forth upon their mission, as Christ did upon His, "in the power of the Spirit." From that good hour, there was no going backward, no inquiries for "the blessedness they knew when first they saw the Lord," no want of strength to "fly or go, to reach eternal joys," and no want of grace to "abound unto every good work." "God was their everlasting Light," and from their inner being, as Christ had promised, there continuously welled out "rivers of living water." Two revealed facts clearly disclose the inspired method of strengthening and confirming the faith of converts and believers of every class. When Peter and John had come down to Samaria, what did they do with the young converts there? Did those inspired men stir up and exhort them to sin-renunciations, consecrations, and purposes of obedience, or to self-determined resolutions and efforts of any kind? Those men of God were better taught than to adopt any such course. On the contrary, they prayed for those converts, "that they might receive the Holy Ghost," and continued in prayer and the laying on of hands, until they did "receive the Holy Ghost." When Paul met certain disciples at Ephesus, what was his great inquiry of them, and what were his efforts in their behalf? "Have ye received the Holy Ghost, since ye believed?" "And when Paul had laid his hands upon them, the Holy Ghost came on them." Then, and not before, did he "enter with them into the work of the Lord." When will the Church and her teachers heed inspired example and teaching?

Brother Finney and his teachings at that time² were right as far as they went. In the absence of a total renunciation of self and sin, a full and entire consecration of the entire being and possessions to Christ and His kingdom and glory, and a hearty acceptance of the will of God as the absolute law of the present and future activity, the Holy Ghost will never be received. But if the convert or believer stops short with such renunciations, consecrations, and purposes, he will never advance a step in the direction of his purposes, but will remain, amid his broken resolutions, a groaning prisoner under the law of sin and death. Following out, on the other hand, the inspired method, "his light will go forth as brightness, and his salvation as a lamp that shineth."

CHAPTER XII.

EXPERIENCE AND REFLECTIONS AS PRESIDENT OF COLLEGES.

SOME thirty years of my life have I spent as President of Colleges. When a student in College, I had distinctly upon my mind the impression, that much of my future life would be spent in connection with such institutions. I accordingly from the beginning made them the subject of special study and reflection. Questions like these early rose in my mind: What is the reason, or cause, of the lawlessness of the College student? Why is College life a period of such peril to the morals of the student? Why do young men glory in doing, as students in College, what they would no more think of doing, as citizens at home, than they would of perpetrating robbery upon the highway? What is the cause of the constant collisions between College classes? What cause originated, and still perpetuates, among College students, the barbarous and demoralising practice of hazing? Why do unsocial and often hostile relations exist between the student and Faculty? Why is it that when a student commits a crime, not only against College, but equally against civil and moral law, it is considered flagrant dishonour in a fellow-student to make known to the Faculty the perpetrator, or to testify against him?

During my College life, for example, several of the students, entertaining a deep contempt for one of the tutors who occupied an upper room in our large College hail, brought up from the village an unmounted cannon, and having loaded it with a dangerous amount of common powder, placed it with a slow match before that tutor's door. When the explosion occurred, the cannon burst into fragments, several lives were endangered, and several hundred dollars' damage was done to the building. Inquiry being made for the perpetrators, about one half of the students signed a written covenant, that they would not give any testimony, anywhere or in any form, by which the relations of any student to that event should be disclosed. Among those who signed that paper were several candidates for the ministry. One of these, as a minister of the Gospel, afterwards married our President's daughter. Such, very extensively, is College life.

One other question then pressed upon my mind; namely, the causes of the hostile relations which often exist between the students and the community around, the labouring classes especially. We had been but a short time in England, when we noticed in a shop window a lithographed picture, bearing a title of this import, "University Life at Oxford." I had before me the representation of a noble-looking student engaged in a fist fight with a low Irish labourer, the manifest object of the student being mere sport. Anywhere but in connection with the University such student would have been ashamed to show his face in good society, after engaging in such a fight.

The conclusion which forced itself upon my mind, in view of such strange facts, was, that their origin and cause are to be found wholly in the unnatural and irrational relations into which the student is forced, on his entrance into, and continuance in, College or University life. I am not well informed in respect to established customs, and modes of government, which obtain in English, Scotch, and European Universities generally. One fact, however, becomes manifest to the slightest observation, as you approach such institutions. You know at once the student and the citizen of the same age, and distinguish the one from the other by the dress of the former, a dress which from head-gear downwards is as unnatural and uncivilised as can well be conceived. This unnatural distinction in dress may be properly assumed as representing the real distinction between the life of the student and citizen, and as marking the life of the former as a comparatively lawless period of existence. There are probably quite as many clerks and apprentices as students in Oxford and Cambridge: why are not the former as well as the latter class required to distinguish themselves, even by their dress, from all other citizens? Certainly there are just as valid reasons for caste distinctions in one case as in the other. What a monkish relic of the Dark Ages is the idea, that a necessary preparation for giving form and direction to citizen life is, in the case of candidates for the sacred ministry especially, the spending of ten or twelve years, the formative period of their lives, in a state of caste separation from the forms of life, to give character to which is their subsequent life-mission "Never touch water, until you have first learned to swim," seems to be the principle which determines the student's entire preparation for citizen life. And such an unnatural and arbitrarily constrained life cannot fail to be usually a lawless form of life.

We now turn to a consideration of American Colleges and Universities, with whose regulations and usages I have had a long personal acquaintance. I will introduce what I have to say upon this subject, by a reference to a few facts of experience at my first entrance upon College life. When, at the ringing of the College bell, I entered the chapel for evening prayer, having never in my life before heard of a religious meeting in which the attendants were seated in accordance with caste distinction, I took the first vacant seat that presented itself, and with due reverence attended to the accustomed exercises. I noticed, however, that several frowning faces among the students were turned upon me. As I left the chapel, I was rudely admonished by members of the upper classes that I ought to have known my place as a member of the Freshman class. On inquiry, I found that the following were the fixed regulations in regard to the general gatherings of the students. The Faculty occupied seats directly fronting and facing the students. Next in front of the Faculty the senior class occupied seats appropriated to their exclusive use. Next behind the seniors sat the juniors, then the Sophermores, and at the back of all the Freshmen. When the students were seated in chapel for any public exercise, and were waiting the entrance of the Faculty, this fixed law obtained. On the entrance of the member of the Faculty who should first come in, whether President, Professor, or Tutor, the entire body of the students were required to rise, and stand until the individual referred to had taken his seat. The same was required of each class on the entrance of the teacher into the class-room. The unvarying result of such required custom was, that whenever an unpopular Tutor or Professor was first to enter the chapel, he would be saluted with "scraping" by nearly one-half of the collected students. Thus a spirit of lawlessness was perpetually nourished in the College. A fixed order of dispersion, also, obtained at the close of all our public exercises. The students would rise and stand until the Faculty had passed out. The latter would be followed, first by the senior, and then by the junior, and so on to the Freshman class, a respectful distance having to be observed between the rear of one class and the front of that next in succession. Here was a fruitful cause of frequent collisions between the classes, the caste distinction between them being rendered perpetually visible to all minds, and acts of rudeness, real or imaginary, very often arising between individuals in the rear of one class, or in the front of the other, during the egress. Permit me here to state a single illustrative fact which was told me by an eye-witness. In a leading eastern College in which each class had its duly elected bully, a rather violent collision occurred between the rear of the Sophermore and the front of the Freshman class during their egress from the chapel at the close of evening prayer. A hostile meeting of the bullies of the two classes was thus occasioned. During the encounter the bully of the upper class was knocked down, and mercilessly mauled, until he lay in a state of perfect helplessness upon the floor. Thus, and by other means by which caste distinctions between the classes are rendered perpetually visible, permanent rivalries and hostilities are generated among them, rivalries and hostilities giving rise to hazing, and other practices disgraceful to our literary institutions.

Let us now turn in another direction. At our first recitation on the first Monday morning after our College life commenced, my name was called. On my signifying the fact that I was present, the Tutor informed me that I was marked as "tardy" at prayers on such an occasion. On my replying that I did not know what was meant by the charge, I was informed that on the occasion referred to I entered the chapel after the reading of Scripture was commenced, which was contrary to College law. My ignorance was accepted as a valid excuse, and never afterwards was a chapel delinquency noted against me for which a valid and accepted reason was not rendered. I then learned that each class was under the surveillance of a monitor, whose function it was to note all absences or cases of tardiness on the part of each member, and to make a weekly report of the same.

Take one other case. Soon after we were settled in our rooms and studies, at a study hour, we heard a single tap at our door. Before we had time to respond, the door was opened, and a member of the Faculty just showed his face, touched his hat, and, without uttering a word, retired, closing the door after him. "What does that mean, room-mate?" I exclaimed, On inquiry, we learned that the occupants of every room in the College Halls were, at every moment during study hours of each day and evening, liable to such calls, it being a fixed arrangement that each member of the Faculty in his turn, from the President downwards, was to make such calls at the rooms of all the students. The object was to keep the students in their rooms and at their studies during such hours. In the case of the absence of any student from his room, or the presence of any one who should not be there, the assumed delinquent was required to call at the room of the President, Professor, or Tutor, and explain himself. No custom could be adopted more sure to induce lawlessness among the students than such a one as this. As soon as the intruder had left, under the assurance that the call would not be repeated that day, all the rogues in College would immediately be collected together in different rooms, and have a merry time of it.

At our entrance into College, also, a code of laws, the distinct and formal items numbering some one hundred or more, according to my recollection, was put into the hands of each student, and a pledge exacted of him that he would render strict obedience to every such item. For myself, I never read the code through. Discovering, as I readily did, the routine of duties which fulfilled all law, I followed this from principle, and of course graduated with the reputation of having been throughout a perfectly law-abiding student; and this was the only principle on which such a reputation could have been acquired. The individual who attempts conformity to a hundred external rules, will be, of necessity, a continuous violator of not a few of them.

The relations of the student to the members of the Faculty demand special notice. I have already referred to the deference demanded of the former, when any one of the latter entered the chapel or recitation room, and to the continuous surveillance of the Faculty over the students by means of monitors, and personal calls at their rooms during study hours, a surveillance by which the student was perpetually treated as a lawless creature, void of moral principle, and one who would never do as he should but when under the suspicious eyes of his superiors. Then, in our walks, whenever we met a member of the Faculty, President, Professor, or Tutor, we were required to do to him what we did to nobody else—to give him the inside of the walk, to lift our hats, and to bow in special and reverential recognition. When calling upon him at his room for any reason, seldom would we be invited to take a seat. Standing before him, hat in hand, on the contrary, we would present our petition, while he, sitting in formal dignity before us, would listen to our requests, and, having given a favourable or unfavourable response, would magisterially bow us out of his room. In addressing him we were required to give him his full title, as President, Professor, or Tutor, while we were addressed with the simple cognomen of Mahan, Jones, Parker, &c. All was ordered so as to render perpetually visible to the student, and to keep him odiously conscious of, his relations of inferiority to his superiors.

The above are mere examples of the arbitrary and unnatural laws, customs, regulations, and usages to which the student was forcibly subjected on his entrance into College life, laws, regulations, and usages which have no existence anywhere but in such institutions. This I affirm, without fear of contradiction, that laws, regulations, and customs so arbitrary, so contrary to fixed usage everywhere else, and which inflict such continuous violence upon all the natural instincts and palpable rights of universal human nature, tend to nothing good, and can induce nothing but "evil, and only evil, continually." Subject the student to arbitrary rules which render perpetually visible to his mind invidious caste distinctions between College classes, which render him perpetually conscious of a suspicious surveillance of monitors and the Faculty, as if he were an unruly animal that must be fenced in by walls which he cannot leap or climb over, and which compel him to a continuous show of formal deference to all the members of the Faculty, a deference which he is not expected to manifest towards the most venerable personages known in the community and world around; and if that student does not become utterly lawless in his relations to the institution and community, it will be because no influences can thus deprave him. Such were the convictions which took definite form in my mind during my College life, and which subsequent experience and observation have fully confirmed and verified.

My own Experience and Observations as President of Colleges.

The reader is now prepared to consider and appreciate the results of my own experience and observations, of thirty years' continuance, as President of Colleges. I had an experience in the last common school which I taught, which threw much light upon my mind in respect to the spirit and principles which should have supreme place in the government and control of all institutions of learning. All the schools which I had previously taught had been, in the judgment of my employers, a marked success. Conformed as their conduct was to old and established methods, the conviction matured in my mind that I had essentially erred, and I felt a strong desire to manage one school upon totally different principles from those which commonly obtained. When accordingly I first called my school to order, and had finished reading Scripture and prayer, I addressed my pupils to this specific effect: "You know, my dear pupils, as well as I do, all of you, from the oldest to the youngest, the duties which I owe to you as your teacher, and which you owe to me, to yourselves, and to one another, as scholars under my tuition. I am here, as you well know, to perfect you, as far as I am able, in the studies assigned you, and you are here, as you are distinctly aware, for one purpose, to perfect yourselves, as far as you can, in your knowledge of those studies. The rules and only laws to be known in this school are just what we all know perfectly we should do. When your conduct shall accord with what you know perfectly that it should be, you will violate no rule or law of this school, but will do all that is expected or required of you." When I had finished my address, I saw that good will and a fixed purpose of obedience were distinctly written upon every countenance. During the first intervals of study, the scholars, as I was afterwards informed, talked the matter over among themselves. "Now," they said, "we have a teacher that knows his business, and we must do all we can to meet his expectations." And this was done. No scholar, with two slight exceptions, did an act which did not meet my approval. There were, in the school, several lads, of from twelve to sixteen years of age, who were of the most lawless character known in the community. Two of them, in open school, united in a terrible fist fight against their teacher, during the winter school that next succeeded mine. Yet no scholars could be more industrious in study, or more respectful to a teacher, than were all these lads during the entire period while they were under my instruction. When the term was about half through, the two youngest lads in the school, each being some five or six years of age, talked the matter over between themselves, and concluded that as no scholar had, thus far, been admonished or punished, in any form, for anything he had done, they would not be punished for anything they might do, and hence determined to do as they pleased. Seeing them rudely whispering and sporting together, I requested them to desist. They stuck out their lips towards me, and laughed in my face. A hand of each of them promptly felt the weight of a ferule, until each was fully convinced that there was in the school authority which would be promptly enforced whenever lawlessness should appear. Until within two or three days of the close of the school the conduct of even these lads was all that I desired it to be. Then one of them, the other being sick at home, concluded that now he could do as he pleased, and began the same lawless and impudent course as before. Again he felt the weight of the ferule, and to the end industry and order were the exclusive law of the school. The result was what I had planned—perfect order, such proficiency in study as I had never witnessed before, a life friendship between myself and pupils, and an extensive revival of religion, in which, not only most of the elder scholars, but many in the community around, were gathered into the kingdom of God. Such, I said to myself, are the principles in conformity to which all institutions of learning should be governed. Such government should be throughout, not arbitrary, but parental. All caste distinctions, in all required public gatherings of students, should disappear entirely. No visible surveillance, as if the student was continuously suspected of lawlessness, should exist. No arbitrary and formal marks of respect should be required by the Faculty from the students, but such as are expected in the best society everywhere. Nor should any rules and regulations be imposed upon the student, but such as his conscience fully approves as demanded by the circumstances and relations in which he is, for the time being, located. Such were the convictions which had attained to full maturity in my mind when I was called to the Presidency of Oberlin College.

In assuming the Presidency of this Institution, I found myself called to preside over a college constituted in fundamental particulars wholly unlike any other that then existed, or ever had existed in the history of the race. The number of students in attendance, during the fifteen years of my Presidency, varied from five to eight hundred, or upwards. As constituted, the College consisted of a Preparatory department,—that of College proper, with the four usual classes,—a Shorter Course for gentlemen, on the one hand, and ladies on the other, who did not desire to take the Classical Course,—and the Theological Department, all under one and the same Faculty. Our pupils were of both sexes, and of all colours and nationalities who might choose to come to us. The College stood before the world as the uncompromising representative and advocate of the inalienable rights of human nature, especially as violated and trampled down by the institution of slavery. In addition to all these unusual facts, the College early became, principally through its President and Professor of Theology, the visible representative of the doctrine of the Higher Life.

An institution thus constituted, and representing such principles, such an institution rising into sudden prominence before the national mind, could not fail to attract universal attention and discussion, nor escape, for a time at least, very deep and general reprobation. And so it was. Probably no other institution was ever, during the early years of its existence, so much talked and written about, and against, as this. Educators in other Colleges and Universities spoke out, and recorded their solemn protests against the principles on which the College was based, affirming that the attempt at the co-education of the sexes, and the commingling of youth without distinction of sex, race, or colour, was fatally demoralising, and would ere long render the institution a disgrace to human nature. The press, secular and religious, took up the strain, and warned parents against subjecting their sons and daughters to the demoralising influence of such an institution. Nor was the pulpit, north or south, east or west, silent upon the subject, but fully echoed the voice of educators and the press. It was under such circumstances that I entered upon my duties as President of that College, and did so with an immutable determination that it should be governed upon principles as diverse from those which obtained in other Colleges as its organisation was from that on which those were based. It may be a matter of interest to the reader to be informed of some of the principles to which I here refer.

Principles and Methods of Government and Control

which were adopted at Oberlin.

I. First of all, my fixed purpose was, that Christian thought and influence should be the supreme and all-regulating principle of the Institution. As a means to this end, the presence of both sexes rendering it practicable, I determined that, under one of the best and most spiritually-minded teachers that could be found, sacred music should be carried to its highest perfection, so that all our social gatherings, our public worship on the Sabbath, daily religious services, and all our prayer-meetings, should be constantly under the most deeply spiritual influence, even all our common recitations being commenced with a short prayer, or a devotional hymn. This end was fully carried out. The great musical composer and singer, Mr. Thomas Hastings, on visiting Oberlin, remarked, that we had, without question, the best choir and the most perfect sacred music in the United States. Thus, all the exercises of the Institution had one common aim and influence,—the salvation of the impenitent, and the spiritual advancement of believers.

2. That the government of the Institution should be, in the strictest sense, parental, no formal show of respect and veneration being required of the student towards the members of the Faculty, and no visible surveillance being exercised over the students through monitors, or by the intrusion of the Faculty into their rooms.

In one of the first meetings of the Faculty which I attended, after I assumed my duties as President of the College, this question was submitted to me by my associates: "Would it be proper that a student of the Preparatory Department" (an extreme case being selected), "who has occasion to speak to you, the President of the College, should address you as 'Brother Mahan'?" All the members of the community at Oberlin were accustomed to address one another as "brother" or "sister," as the case might be. It seemed to my associates, who had been educated in eastern institutions, that such forms of address should not be allowed to students when addressing members of the Faculty. Hence the above question. My reply was, that the answer to that question depended upon the answer to be given to another of the same kind, to wit: "Would it be proper for a person of the same age, and not a member of the Institution, thus to address me?" This settled the matter, and no attempt was afterwards made to introduce arbitrary rules regulating the intercourse of the students with the Faculty. Instead of having monitors to note the attendance of students at required public gatherings, we made each student his, or her, own monitor, giving weekly reports at some recitation of their relations to their required duties. We depended upon the knowledge which the student evinced of his lessons in the recitation room for evidence of his diligence in, or neglect of, his duties in study hours.

3. In all required general gatherings of the students for religious or other purposes, and in all other arrangements of the Institution, no distinction of departments or classes should be visible. In all such gatherings, pupils and spectators were to be seated promiscuously, like people elsewhere on public occasions. The only distinction ever to be made was, that the gentlemen and ladies should occupy separate seats.

4. Throughout the entire educational course, the students, male and female, should be habituated to the constant exercise of a prayerful and efficient influence for the conversion of the impenitent, and the edification of believers, and for the promotion of every good cause. Our candidates for the ministry especially were encouraged to the constant use of their faculties in all forms of exhortation and preaching, as opportunities presented. They were particularly instructed and admonished to avail themselves of every opportunity to promote revivals of religion wherever they might be. At the commencement of each term, accounts would be given of hundreds of conversions in schools taught by pupils of both sexes, and of various forms of labour engaged in by them, during the winter vacation. Thus, when our students left us for permanent labour, they found themselves ready, made ready by previous training, for the work to which they were called. The habit which so generally obtains of deferring active labour, exhortation, and preaching especially, until education is finished, is the grand reason why so few ministers ever learn how to preach to, and work among, the people.

5. The code of laws adopted should be such as would require nothing but what the student should approve as indispensable to the good order of the Institution. When our code was prepared, and before it was printed, it was accordingly read in public assembly to all the students, and received their unanimous and hearty approval. From the beginning, let me add here, the penalty of expulsion was attached to every case in which members of one sex should visit any of those of the other at their rooms. In other respects, their social relations were left to be regulated by the public sentiment in the College and community, as in good society elsewhere. Such was the plan which I had deliberately formed for the government and control of the College, and which was cordially adopted and carried out by the Faculty. We are now prepared to present the results of this new plan of governing a College, carried out under such new and seemingly unpropitious circumstances. Among these results, I designate the following as the most important.

The Results.

I. The constant presence and all-controlling action of what may be properly denominated a revival influence among all classes of the students. During the fifteen years of my Presidency at Oberlin, and a corresponding period in which I presided over the College at Adrian, no one year passed in which we were not favoured with at least one revival of great power, a work of grace in which a majority of our impenitent pupils were hopefully converted, and the spirituality of believers visibly advanced. A religious atmosphere thus encircled the Institution, and, without any appearance of constraint, gave character to the conversation and deportment of the students.

2. In the sphere where the worst results were so generally predicted, the opposite results were, in all respects, the most conspicuous. I refer to the experiment of the joint education of the sexes in all departments of liberal education. We found that the presence of individuals of both sexes, in the class room, at the tables in our dining halls, and in all our public gatherings, was, unconsciously to all concerned, as it is in families and in the community generally, an all-constraining incentive to diligence in study, purity of thought and conversation, and general propriety of behaviour everywhere. Take a simple illustrative fact. The Principal of the Ladies' Seminary at Geneva, N.Y., once visited Oberlin. By invitation of our Lady Principal, the visitor for several days took her meals at the tables in our large dining hall. Here the stranger, her presence not being suspected except by a very few of the pupils, had the best possible opportunity to inform herself of the real character of the deportment of the young people at those tables. After her return to her own institution, she made this statement in a letter to our Lady Principal: "On my return, I said to my associates, that there was far more perfect propriety of conversation and behaviour among those two hundred young people of both sexes at those tables in that boarding hail at Oberlin, than we could secure at our tables among seventy young ladies from the best families in the community and State around us." Such was the unvarying testimony of visitants at Oberlin and Adrian College in regard to the general conduct of our students.

To enlarge on this subject is wholly unnecessary, as the results of the experiment under consideration are now "known and read of all men," and are visible to all the world in the changes which have been and are being effected in our Colleges and Universities throughout Christendom, as well as in the general relations of woman in society. "Knowing that shortly I must put off this my tabernacle," I here record the conviction that I have no occasion to be ashamed to have it universally known that I am the first man in the history of the race who conducted woman through a full course of liberal education, and conferred upon her the degrees of A.B. and A.M.

3. One other result I here record with the deepest satisfaction. In neither of the Colleges over which I presided was there any such thing known as an act of hazing, or a collision, or hostile sentiment between students in different departments or classes. Nor was a complaint ever heard of a want of due respect being shown by members of higher towards those in lower classes or departments, nor of disrespect to any member of the Faculty. Such mock cognomens as were common in other colleges, "Old Prex," "Uncle Tid," or "Little Prim," were never heard among us.

4. The relations of the students to the community around require special recognition. The social influence of the co-presence of the sexes in the Institution induced among the students a spirit and habits of thought and conversation which rendered them at home with all classes of the community around, and generated a lasting friendship between the pupils and the people. Nothing like prejudice or hostility or collision of any kind ever occurred between these two classes. What greatly strengthened these bonds was the total absence of any intrusion, on the part of the students, into the orchards, gardens, or fields of the families around us. The general absence of all disposition to mischief and disorder among the students was one of the most marked characteristics of the Institution, as noticed by visitants of all classes. Dr. Parker, for example, who was subsequently President of Union Theological Seminary, said to his friends in New York city, after visiting Oberlin, "I do not wonder that they believe in Perfection there; everything seems to be so completely controlled by religious influences. They appear to be singing themselves away to heaven. Such music I never heard in my life, as I everywhere heard when in that place; and the music was all of a deeply spiritual character. The genial spirit of the students was evinced by the fact that I found the young men cultivating a friendship with the birds in the trees and groves around them, those birds flying down among the youth, and feeding upon the crumbs which the latter would throw out to their confiding visitants." This was all true. As I was passing one day to Tappan Hall to attend a recitation, I saw a group of young men standing together beside my path. Stopping to see the reason of their being together, I saw one of them in front of the rest, with a little bird sitting quietly upon his forefinger. This was the object at which all were looking. As the young men dispersed the little bird flitted away, and joined its chirping companions. While I was President of Adrian College, Dr. Patten, then editor of The [Chicago] Advance, and now President of Howard University, spent a Sabbath and several days in Adrian. In the account which he subsequently gave of his visit in The Advance, he made these statements in regard to the College: "When I visited the College, I felt, while there, that the Millennium had begun, so pervaded and controlled was that Institution by a Christian influence of the most spiritual character. One of the facts which most deeply interested me, was the account which the Pastor of Plymouth Church gave me of the relations of the students to the families around them, and of the deep and abiding friendship which existed between the pupils and the people; none of the latter entertaining a suspicion of any injury done to any of their possessions by any of the former. Directly in front of the large hall occupied by the male students, and on the opposite side of the street, was located a five-acre lot, owned by the pastor referred to. This, being a corner lot, was fronted on each of two sides by a main road, down one of which the students always passed on going to the city. In this lot was fruit of a character as perfect as was known in the State, such as the apple, pear, peach, cherry, grape, and small fruits of various kinds. Yet that pastor assured me, that he had not the remotest suspicion that any student had ever intruded himself into that lot, or had clandestinely taken from it a particle of fruit. The only seeming intrusion that, as he believed, had ever occurred, he witnessed with his own eyes. On going up to the College one day, he found some half-dozen of those young men in his lot. They were running in every direction, brandishing clubs, and shouting at the top of their voices. The occasion was this: a herd of unruly cattle, passing along, had broken down his fence, it being a rail one on that side, had rushed into his lot, and were doing much damage there. These young men, on perceiving the mischief which was being done, left their hail, and, club in hand, drove out the intruders, carefully repaired his fence, and then returned to their usual duties. At such an intrusion, the only one ever suspected, no offence was taken." Such was the testimony which visitants to these Institutions bore away when they departed.

5. The proficiency of our students in their studies, let me add, corresponded with the good order which pervaded the Institution. While fervency of spirit characterised the piety, diligence in study was an equally marked characteristic of the habits of our students. The presence of individuals of both sexes in the recitation rooms was a constant unconscious constraint upon each young man and young woman not to appear there ignorant of his or her lessons. Hence it was that the orations of our students, orations delivered at the time of their graduation, uniformly surprised and highly gratified the great congregations which always assembled on such occasions, on account of the maturity of thought and ripeness of scholarship which those addresses evinced. One year, for example, we graduated a class numbering some twenty individuals, each of whom delivered an oration at our Commencement. The same year, the class that graduated at Yale College numbered upwards of one hundred. Out of this large class, some twenty of its best members, selected by the Faculty, delivered addresses at the time of their graduation. Judge Whittlesy, a graduate of Yale, and admitted by all who knew him to be one of the best judges in such cases in Northern Ohio, attended first the Commencement exercises of that College, and then those at Oberlin. The judgment which he pronounced was this, that the performances of the twenty individuals, constituting the entire graduating class at Oberlin, evinced a maturity of thought, ripeness of scholarship, and perfection of mental discipline, much superior to that displayed in the performances of a corresponding number of the best members of the class of more than one hundred at Yale. Such facts speak for themselves.

6. In no Institution in the world was real freedom, independence of thought and discussion, more fully induced among students than among us. In all departments of the Institution, and on all subjects, the student was taught to receive nothing upon trust, to admit as true on any subject no dogma or theory not scientifically verified, and to exercise the most perfect freedom of inquiry and discussion before all his teachers. The allowance of such perfect freedom and independence to the student gave us the most free and ready access to his mind, rendered him thoroughly open to conviction on the presentation of valid evidence, and thus laid a foundation in his mind for a rational and immovable faith in the "glorious Gospel of the grace of God." Infidelity, and systems of "science falsely so called," could not maintaih a standing among us, because they were clearly and undeniably unmasked before all minds as resting upon no foundations more substantial than banks of sand. As a teacher of mental and moral philosophy and natural theology, individuals holding every variety of sentiment and form of belief then known came under my instruction. All such individuals were allowed and encouraged in the use of the most perfect freedom in setting forth and offering their strongest reasons, before me and the class, for their beliefs, and in questioning any position I might assume. No one ever complained of being embarrassed, or treated with disrespect, when exercising such freedom. Yet, as I believe, I never graduated an infidel. This free exposure of all false systems, and consequent revelation of the eternal foundations on which God's truth rests, was a chief cause of the prevalence of Christian influence, and of the evangelical faith in its purest form, in the Institution.

7. I will now speak, at one and the same time, of an ideal under which our pupils of all classes were educated, and of the benign results of education under its influence; an ideal which was present in my mind during all the years in which I had pupils under my care. In truly sanctified minds, as I apprehend the subject, there is the total absence of all pride of caste, station, sphere of labour, and employment, on the one hand; and a perfect readiness to make tents, work as a carpenter, supply the needs of ourselves and of those with us with our own hands, and that in any kind of honest labour to which God in His providence may at any time call us. The only question before such a mind will be, "By what means, and in what sphere, can I best serve God and my generation?" The true saint of God will be in the world as Christ was in the world, "as one that serveth." As an infant He lay as quietly and acquiescently in a manger as He would have done on a bed of down. For the first thirty years of His life, after He was able to labour, He sustained Himself, and helped to support His mother's family, "by the sweat of His brow," and that in a sphere of low-caste labour in human regard. "Is not this the carpenter?" Yet, while it was His Father's will that He should continue there, He was just as much at home in that humble occupation as He is now when seated with the Father on His throne. Such was the lesson, and the only lesson, taught in that wonderful transaction recorded John xiii. I—17: "So after He had washed their feet, and had taken His garments, and was set down again, He said unto them, Know ye what I have done to you? Ye call me Master and Lord: and ye say well; for so I am. If I then, your Lord and Master, have washed your feet; ye also ought to wash one another's feet. For I have given you an example, that ye should do as I have done to you. Verily, verily, I say unto you, The servant is not greater than his lord; neither he that is sent greater than he that sent him. If ye know these things, happy are ye if ye do them."

This was the spirit of Paul and of all the apostles, and of the primitive Church. None were more ready to visit the sick, "wash the saints' feet," and do any service to which love called them, than were delicate and royally educated ladies. This, I am absolutely assured, is the spirit of heaven. Were Gabriel called of God to take a human body and dwell among men, and, during his residence here, were he to be brought into circumstances in which, for a time, he could gain his daily bread only by labouring as a shoeblack, he would be just as content in thus labouring as he is now in "standing before God." This I affirm, because it was the spirit most prominent in the life of Christ when He "was made flesh, and dwelt among us." One question was ever present in His mind: "In what sphere and form of work can I most fully accomplish the work which the Father gave Me to do?"

It was in conformity to this ideal that we aimed to educate our pupils of all classes; and the manual labour which then almost universally obtained in Oberlin, was of a class most favourable to insure the end we aimed at. As a consequence, our brightest young ladies, and those who afterwards attained to the highest spheres of influence and usefulness, did most to sustain themselves, while acquiring their education, by taking in washing, and doing service as house-servants in families. By labouring with all willingness and fidelity at any kind of work which came to their hands, teaching school, by agencies, and labours in the churches, during our long winter vacations, our young men worked their way through a nine years' course of preparatory, liberal, and theological education. Having occasion myself to employ, during our terms of study, numbers of these young men, I was accustomed to join them, and especially when any "dirty work" was to be done. No apology was ever made. Its necessity made every form of labour honourable.

It was this one feature of the Institution, together with its religious influence, that saved it from being utterly wrecked during the crisis through which it passed a few years after my Presidency commenced. In consequence of a great fire in New York city, our entire endowment fund was swept away, amounting to eighty thousand dollars. In consequence of the general commercial collapse throughout the country, we lost most of a subscription which amounted to nearly a hundred thousand dollars, and found the College burdened with an indebtedness amounting to about fifty thousand dollars. Our hopes were sustained by a donation sent us just at this crisis by the Hon. Garrit Smith, consisting of upwards of two thousand dollars in money, and a deed of some thirty thousand acres of land in Western Virginia. But the occurrence which saved the College from a total wreck, and insured for it a permanent existence, was this; the land referred to proving to be not so valuable as had been supposed. At this time William Dawes, Esq., living at Hudson, Ohio, the location of a College of that name, visited and spent a Sabbath with us. As he approached the place, he passed a company men at work on the highway, making necessary repairs; a company consisting, as he learned on inquiry, of students from the College, with their President in their midst, labouring as diligently and willingly as any of his pupils. "This," said the visitant to his companions, "is in strange contrast with the spirit which prevails among the Faculty and students at our College, and all others with which I am acquainted, and appears like primitive Christianity revived." On the Sabbath, he saw with wonder and gratitude with what power the Spirit of God was working among believers and the unconverted. So deep was the impression made upon his mind by all he saw and heard, that, before he left, he called upon our treasurer, and expressed the assurance, that in a few days he would send us a reliable subscription, amounting to from two to three thousand dollars. Within the time specified, he did bring us such a subscription, the amount appended to his own name being, according to my clear recollection, one thousand dollars. The result of negotiations immediately entered upon was, that that man of God closed up his large and very prosperous business, removed his family to Oberlin, and devoted his time and talents, without a salary, to the College. The consequence was, that the Institution was sustained during that crisis; that in a few years every item of that great debt was paid off and a permanent and prosperous life was insured to Oberlin College. At one time, in company with Rev. John Keep, Mr. Dawes visited Great Britain, and sent us over from thence upwards of thirty thousand dollars. Had not the Lord sent us this one man, and so wonderfully "endued him with power" for his work, Oberlin to-day would be among the things that were; and what induced him to make such sacrifices, and endure such labours, was the spirit and principles which peculiarised the Institution.

The character and influence of the young men and women who went out from us were a living exemplification of the spirit and principles in which they had been educated. For many years, those who went out as preachers could receive no patronage from any of the existing missionary societies, home or foreign, and popular churches were closed against them. Yet they all found ready work to do, and by their great zeal for Christ, and fruitful ministrations, ultimately subdued existing prejudices, and all because God was with them, and worked with them.

The reader would be misled, if he should infer from what is written above, that we never had any disorderly students among us. We had occasion, from time to time, to exercise discipline, never, however, in a single instance, for the special form of immorality which was predicted as the certain result of the co-education of the sexes. Discipline was promptly exercised in case of disorderly conduct of any kind; and what peculiarised its exercise among us was, that it was always visibly countenanced and upheld by the all-pervading public sentiment of the Institution. Idleness and disorder of every kind were held in reprobation among the students, as theft and robbery were in the community around.

I have often affirmed in years past, and now put upon record, the absolute belief that no place in the wide world is so favourable to the moral and religious culture and well-being of our youth of both sexes, as is a College or University, supervised throughout as such institutions may and should be; and, on the other hand, no respectable place is more perilous to the moral and religious well-being of our youth than so-called religious institutions, when supervised as such institutions too commonly are. A College or University under a President, Professor, and Teachers, who have a mastery of the sciences they are required to teach, and are, at the same time, "full of faith and of the Holy Ghost," as that man of God, Tholuck, was, will seldom graduate an infidel or impenitent student, or an individual whose influence in every sphere will not be "as ointment poured forth." A College or University, on the other hand, under the supervision of a President and Instructors who "have a name to live, and are dead," is "a whited sepulchre," a place where moral degeneracy and unbelief are likely to develope in the pupil, and where real conversions and effective moral and religious culture are well-nigh impossible.

I here put on record a second time what I once wrote in regard to Professor Tholuck, in order to set forth my ideal of what every instructor, in a religious institution especially, is under obligations, infinite and eternal, to be. The article was entitled Tholuck, the Secret of his power.

'The name of Tholuck is, throughout Christendom, as ointment poured forth.' To his influence, more than to any other visible cause, must be assigned the reintroduction into the German Universities, and into the general German mind, of the principles and spirit of the Evangelical Faith. The forms of influence which he exerted were manifold, and in every sphere his success was pre-eminent. In the domain of philosophy, general science, and literature, as an expositor of the Sacred Word, and as a preacher of the everlasting Gospel, no contemporary, or very few, excelled him; and in every sphere of thought and activity, his entire aim and influence had one and the same fixed direction, the advancement of the cause of Christian truth. To the same end was all his social influence directed. 'It was not,' says a writer in the New York Christian Advocate, 'simply in the lecture room, the pulpit, and the printed page, that he won victories for the Master. Personal intercourse with the student was his most marked characteristic. His house, modest and unpretending, was ever the home of the undergraduates. He was not satisfied unless they were at his table. And in his daily, memorable walks, they were his inseparable and most loved companions. He well merited the title of "student-Professor," in distinction from the so common mere book- Professor. And his favourite dictum is still quoted: "Rather with the licentiates than with the Professors: rather with the students than with the licentiates." He lived with his beloved pupils. A great number date their new life from these never-to-be-forgotten walks and talks with the ardent, soul-loving Professor Tholuck.'

"But what was the source and cause of this wonderful devotion and influence? We are able to give the answer in Professor Tholuck's own words. We quote again from the same writer: 'At the jubilee held in Halle in his honour, in celebration of the fiftieth year of his immortal life-work, when multitudes came together from all parts of the land, and congratulations were received from every class, including the emperor upon the throne; upon this memorable occasion, the world-honoured teacher made this memorable declaration: "That all his success in life had been owing to the baptism of fire (Feuergeist) which he received at the very commencement of his public career, and to the principle of love that seeks and follows."'

"A Tholuck, in each of our higher schools, colleges, and universities, would, in the language of this writer, 'rescue many a lost youth, and save him to society, to the Church, and to heaven.' A Tholuck, we add, in each of our pulpits, a preacher, we mean, under the same 'baptism of fire,' would soon move the Church and the world heavenward. A single Church, under this 'baptism of fire,' will, 'through God, pull down the strongholds' of sin all around her. When the Church, in all her real membership, shall come under this mighty baptism, as she will do by-and-by, then 'the Gentiles will come to her light, and kings to the brightness of her rising,' and the earth will soon be 'full of the knowledge and glory of the Lord, as the waters cover the sea.' Never, since the eclipse of the primal glory of the Church, has there been such an extensive inquiry after this baptism as now exists in all the evangelical churches throughout Christendom. In all directions we hear of facts like the following. Several weeks since, a large band of Christian workers in this city, a band, self-moved by a conscious want of power, and wholly in private, spent the hours of each evening of an entire week, Sunday excepted, the hours from ten to twelve o'clock, in prayer together for one single object, this 'baptism of fire.' A friend who spent one evening in that 'upper room,' said to us, that it did seem to him, while there, that Pentecost had come again. Such as these are the 'bright lights ahead' which are everywhere gladdening our vision."

Had I the ears of the Professors in our Theological Seminaries, I would say to them, What God most desires in you, what is demanded in you as the immutable condition of the discharge of your high functions as the teachers of God's truth, what is indispensable to the required moral and spiritual culture of your pupils, and what the immortal well-being of the Church and the world imperiously requires of you, is the personal reception on your part of this "baptism of fire."

CHAPTER XIII.

THE TWO PERIODS OF MY CHRISTIAN LIFE.

THE reader is aware that for some eighteen years subsequent to my conversion, I dwelt in the dim twilight of a semi-faith, where "the light is as darkness," and then rose into sunlight, where for more than forty-six years my "sun has not gone down, neither has my moon withdrawn itself," where "at evening time there is light," and where doubts and fears, and clouds and darkness do not intervene between the face of God and the face of the soul. Of the leading characteristics of my experience during these two distinct periods of my Christian life, I have given an account sufficiently full and explicit in the work which has been for some years before the public, entitled, Out of Darkness into Light. It is not my intention to repeat here what I have so fully written out there. I have, as I judge, had a sufficiently lengthy abode in each of these states, and have been sufficiently self-reflective while in each to be able to state distinctly the elements and characteristics common to the two, and wherein they stand in contrast to each other. Both in common I regard as genuine forms of Christian experience. On this subject not a shadow of doubt rests upon my mind. Nor, after the most careful and prayerful research, has a doubt crossed my mind, for more than sixty years past, of my acceptance with God. Being genuine forms of Christian experience and life, there must be elements and characteristics common to the two, and at the same time peculiarities on account of which the one stands in most impressive contrast to the other. It is to these elements of resemblance and contrast that I would now invite the very special attention of the reader.

I. This resemblance and contrast, I remark in the first place, appear with very impressive distinctness in the conscious relations of the mind to sin on the one hand, and to holiness on the other. I am not, and cannot be, conscious that my "love of righteousness and hatred of iniquity" have been more sincerely genuine during the past forty-six years than they were during the preceding eighteen years of my Christian life. More than sixty-three years have now passed since I first knew Christ as my Saviour. During all this period this conviction has been omnipresent in my mind, that for sin in any form, or for any form of disobedience to the Divine Will, when made manifest to the mind, through the Word, the Providence, or the Spirit of God, there is absolutely no excuse, but infinite criminality; that while in sin, or disobedience in any form, the soul is subject to the death-penalty, and can be restored to a state of justification only by doing again "its first work," the exercise of "repentance toward God, and faith toward our Lord Jesus Christ." In every act of sin, as I have ever held and taught, the law itself is broken, and its whole penalty is incurred; and it is only when we have a sacred "respect for ALL God's commandments," that we shall not be put to shame before Him. Hence I have ever held and taught that no one who habitually indulges in any known sin, or lives in the neglect of any known duty, can by any possibility be a Christian at all. The habitual aim of my Christian life throughout has, consequently, never been lower than, or diverse from, this, the avoidance of all sin, on the one hand, and to "stand perfect and complete in ALL the will of God," on the other. Nor have I ever allowed the conviction of sin to lie upon my conscience unrepented of, or unforgiven; and "repentance toward God, and faith toward our Lord Jesus Christ," have ever been prompt and sincere, the moment the conviction has been induced. Nor have I ever shunned prompt confession and reparation of wrong, whoever may have been sinned against. There can be no genuine Christian experience and character where these fundamental characteristics are wanting. Nor in any instance has my character or reputation been in the least tarnished by a single immoral word or act. There has also been an equal carefulness to avoid all forms of action and indulgence which may be regarded as of a doubtful character. I have never, for instance—and I commend my example to the devout regard of every one who would be a Christian in truth—I have never, in a single instance, attended a theatre, circus, race-course, or dancing saloon. Nor have my thoughts or feelings ever been in the least degree corrupted by looking into impure literature of any kind. In these respects I have found grace to "keep myself pure." I write thus, not boastingly, but that I may not be misunderstood when I speak of sinning "daily in thought, word, and deed."

Such being the common elements and characteristics of these two states, in what respects, it may be asked, do they differ and stand in impressive contrast to each other? In one most essential respect the contrast between them is as that between deepest midnight and cloudless noon. I refer to the distinct and opposite sentiments and expectations entertained in these states in respect to sin. Regarding it, as I did, while in the former state, as a revealed certainty that every saint, while in the body, will sin, and sin "daily, in thought, word, and deed," and that "from no grace received in this life" can any believer escape the certainty of thus sinning, I just as much expected to sin, and to fall when tempted, as I expected to "put off this my tabernacle," when "the time shall come for me to die." The entertainment of this expectation was, in that state, regarded by all Calvinistic churches as a fundamental article of the Evangelical Faith; the opposite expectation being reprobated as a most subversive error.

What, on the other hand, have been the sentiment and expectation in respect to sin, and obedience to the will of God, which have been ever present in the new form of life which I have led during the past forty-six years? They have been, in all respects, the opposite to those entertained on the subject during the preceding period. I now regard it, and have so regarded it during this second era of my Christian life, as a most perilous error to entertain the expectation of sinning in any form. I no more expect to sin, or violate the law and will of God, in any one form, than I do in any other. On the other hand, I regard this expectation of sinning, and of not "standing perfect and complete in all the will of God," as absolutely and specifically prohibited in the Bible. If this expectation is not absolutely prohibited, and the opposite expectation as absolutely required, in the following precept, no one, we may safely affirm, can get any real meaning out of it: "Likewise reckon ye also yourselves to be dead indeed unto sin, but alive unto God through Jesus Christ our Lord." Whatever may be regarded as the meaning of this passage, such has been the fixed construction which I have put upon it and other kindred passages, during all the period under consideration. Hence, I repeat, I no more expect to sin or to disobey in any one form than I do in any other. I ask what is prohibited to me on the one hand, and positively required of me on the other, with but one expectation— absolute rejection of the one, and perfect compliance with the other.

Such were the distinct and opposite sentiments and expectations entertained, in these two periods, with respect to sin and holiness, obedience and disobedience to the will of God, and in each my experience fully accorded with my faith. Entertaining the sentiment, and holding it as a revealed truth of God, that I should "sin daily in thought, word, and deed," I did, in fact, thus sin, and lived continuously in a state of heart-condemnation. I did, in prayer, say, "Wash me, and I shall be whiter than snow;" and, "Make me perfect in every good work to do Thy will." Entertaining the sentiment that no such petition will be fully met in this life, and that it is a perilous error to think that it will be, of course I did not "ask in faith, nothing wavering," but "staggered" at God's "exceeding great and precious promises," all of which present specifically to our faith "salvation to the uttermost." Prayer for sanctifying grace thus became an unmeaning and faithless service. As a consequence, instead of "receiving anything from the Lord," that is, instead of "receiving the petitions desired of Him," "leanness entered into my soul," and "my bands were made strong." Nothing can induce such painful weakness and desolation in the Christian heart as continuous prayer for what we inwardly think God never did, and never will, give, and what we regard as a perilous error to expect to receive. Prayer itself, under such influences, "a burden proves," and that of necessity. As all purposes of full obedience—and I never formed any other—were formed with the distinct expectation that they would not be kept, they were broken, of course, upon "every stone of stumbling" which I encountered. What a bog life I led during those eighteen years, stumbling here, floundering there, sinning and repenting, and starting on the line of new obedience but to "lay again the foundation of repentance from dead works!" "Faint, yet pursuing," was the motto which I often applied to the life I was then living. Instead of "going from strength to strength," how often was I oppressed with a conscious want of power to "fly or go to reach eternal joys!" I looked into "the perfect law of liberty," and how intense was my desire to enter and "continue therein," and with what a groan would the thought then come over my mind, "The law is holy, and the commandment holy, and just, and good; but I am carnal, sold (a bond slave) under sin"! In such a state, the sentiment, not of "the liberty of the sons of God," but of cheerless, groaning servitude, becomes the leading consciousness of life, a consciousness expressing itself in the despairing cry, "O wretched man that I am! who shall deliver me from the body of this death?"

This sense of bondage becomes most oppressive when the "hunger and thirst after righteousness" become most intense and all-engrossing in the mind. To all eternity I shall never, as it seems to me, be able to forget an experience which I had upon this subject, on one single occasion. In consequence of the position which I had, as a minister of Christ, and trustee of Lane Seminary, been forced to take, or violate my conscience, in regard to slavery, and the laws which the trustees had passed prohibiting all discussion of the subject among the students of the Institution, I was, as I have stated, not only insulated from all my former Christian associations, outside of my own church and people, but became an object of almost universal public contempt and reprobation. Under such circumstances, one desire took supreme possession of my whole being, the specific desire to be saved wholly from sin, and to become "pure in heart." When alone with God, with the deepest sincerity and fervency of spirit, I said to Him in just these words, that I was willing, if need be, to be alone in the world, and to be "as the offscourings of all things," provided I could receive from my Father in heaven one boon,—the gift of a pure heart, and the consciousness of the same. If He would grant me this one blessing, I would accept of any allotment in the future of life, any allotment He might assign. Can any one conceive the thick gloom which came over my whole being, as the sentiment which I then regarded as a revealed truth of God stood out before my mind, that what was then to me the one supreme object of desire, never was, and never will be, given to, or attained by, any believer, until after death has separated the soul from the body? Such is the experience of the believer, at his best estate, when walking in the dim twilight of a semi-faith, in which the first eighteen years of my Christian life were spent, that dry and desert land in which the mass of believers are now wandering, praying for, and aiming at, what, as they suppose, God requires them to believe they never will and never can obtain in this life.

No one, who has not experienced the same, can conceive the change which occurred in my entire inner being, when the conviction, verified to the mind as an expressly revealed truth of God, opened with full distinctness upon my mental vision, that it is not the pleasure, plan, or purpose of God, that the believer in Jesus shall be "carnal, sold under sin;" that at his best estate he shall find himself subject to "a law that, when he would do good, evil shall be present with him," a law which holds him in groaning bondage; but that, in "calling us to be saints," "God has called us," not to bondage, but "to liberty," not to be the servants of sin, but "the Lord's freemen," and, as the blood-bought Sons and daughters of the Lord the Almighty, to "stand perfect and complete in all the will of God." The entrance of this blood-verified truth into my mind was to my paralysed and semi-alive moral and spiritual powers what the words, "Lazarus, come forth," were to that decaying body in that opened sepulchre. In a moment, I rose up and walked, walked "forth out of darkness into light, out of servitude into liberty," and out of "sorrow and sighing" into ever-enduring "joy and gladness," just as "he that had been dead came forth," at the word of Christ. All my groaning experiences during those years of dim twilight were now reversed. I looked upon the sacred page, and found these living words written there, "Sin shall not have dominion over you; for ye are not under the law, but under grace;" and I said in my heart of hearts, "By the grace of God, sin shall not have dominion over me." I looked again, and read the soulinspiring words: "Likewise reckon ye yourselves to be dead indeed unto sin, but alive unto God through Jesus Christ our Lord." I obeyed the command, and "the law of the Spirit of life in Christ Jesus did set me free from the law of sin and death." On those slippery places where my feet had ever slid before, I now find my feet "set upon a rock, and my goings established." In the dread conflicts with the world, the flesh, and the devil, where previously I had ever suffered defeat and been taken captive, "I am now more than conqueror," through Him that "loved me, and gave Himself for me." Regarding it as the will of God that I should "go and sin no more," and distinctly recognising the fact, that "I am not sufficient of myself to THINK," much less do, "anything as of myself, but that my sufficiency is of God," in a state of total self-renunciation, I commit the keeping of my soul to Him who has revealed Himself to me, as "able to keep me from falling," and I am thus "kept by the power of God through faith unto salvation." On entering into this "new and living way," weakness is exchanged for strength, sighing for singing, and groaning servitude for "the glorious liberty of the sons of God."

II. But the resemblance and contrast under consideration become especially manifest, when we refer to the subject of justification, on the one hand, and sanctification, on the other. As far as the subject of justification, or the pardon of sin, is concerned, my views of the nature of the blessing, and the conditions of its attainment, have remained unmodified, during the more than sixty years of my Christian life. A perfect unity of mind and judgment obtains, also, among all evangelical believers on this one vital subject. "Repentance toward God, and faith toward our Lord Jesus Christ," is the condition, sine qua non, imposed upon the creature. Justification then follows, as an act of God, and passes wholly within the Divine Mind. Justification, also, is never partial, but always absolute, and wholly perfected in one and the same completed act, which is never again to be changed or repeated. So I have ever regarded the subject. Hence "the strait gate, and the narrow way," to acceptance with God, when under the consciousness of sin, has ever since I knew it been perfectly plain before my mind, and I have never erred therein.

As far as the matter of sanctification is concerned, utterly distinct and opposite views and sentiments had place and full contrast in my mind during the two periods under consideration. Sanctification, as very commonly understood, and as I apprehended it during the first eighteen years of my Christian life, is the result of the united action of the mind of the believer, and of the Spirit of God, is to be expected only by gradual approach, "little by little," and is never perfect until death. The common sentiment upon the subject is correctly represented by the following passage from an address of a distinguished minister on an important public occasion: "How," inquired the speaker, "are we to make progress in the Divine life? I answer, by hard labour. How are we to become sanctified? By hard labour. How are we to grow in grace? By hard labour. How are we to obtain an answer unto our prayers? By hard labour," &c. In my efforts to become holy, or to attain to a state of sanctification, I made a full consecration of myself to Christ, and started forward with the purpose of full obedience, seeking, at the same time, co-operating grace to render my efforts successful. In doing this, I expected no higher result than a gradual approach, "little by little," towards a state of full obedience. In short, in seeking justification, when conscious of sin, my exclusive dependence was upon the grace of God in Jesus Christ. In seeking sanctification, on the other hand, my first dependence was upon my own resolutions or purposes of obedience and personal efforts, the grace of God and the influence of the Spirit coming in to second and sustain these purposes and efforts.

In respect to the dispositions and propensities, prayer and effort were exclusively in one fixed direction, not the eradication of evil tempers and appetites, and the implantation, in their stead, of new and divine ones, but the holding all sinful promptings in subjection. An evil temper or appetite, as I then regarded the subject, and as it is commonly regarded, will remain as a part of our nature until death, and is to be warred against, and held in subjection, as an internal hostile force. This was, and is, called by many "the Christian warfare."

The result of such seeking, and purposes, and efforts, may readily be anticipated. No sensible progress was made, not even "little by little," in the matter of growth in grace, or any higher spiritual attainments. Evil tempers and dispositions, whenever subjected to strong temptation, instead of being themselves overcome and held in subjection, uniformly "warred against the law of the mind, and brought me into captivity to the law of sin, which was in the members." In being thus overcome, instead of being "more than a conqueror," the habit of falling when tempted was constantly strengthened rather than weakened, and the consciousness of servitude became more and more deep and depressing. Hence the cry, " O wretched man that I am," and the "aching void" left by the loss of the blessedness known during the period of the first love.

Such being the conscious facts of my inner life, I said to myself, years before I knew "the brightness of the Divine rising," "I must have missed my way somewhere, and by the grace of God I will, and I must, find 'the way of holiness' which God has cast up for the redeemed of the Lord to walk in."

At length, when my mind and heart had, by the Spirit of God, been fully prepared to receive the revelation, "in a moment, in the twinkling of an eye," the great mistake of my previous Christian life, together with the secret of attaining to the full fruition of "the glorious liberty of the sons of God," became perfectly manifest to me. When conscious of my need of justification, or the pardon of sin, I had sought the blessing by faith as wholly a gift of grace. When conscious of my need of sanctification, I had regarded it as an attainment to be reached through personal effort, aided by the Spirit of Grace. Here is a fundamental mistake in a matter of most vital interest. Sanctification is a gift of grace in the same sense, and attainable on the same condition, that justification is. Justification is an act of God, an act by which our sins are remitted, and we restored to a legal standing before Him, as if we had never sinned. Sanctification, on the other hand, is a work wrought in us by the Holy Spirit, "a renewing of the Holy Ghost" by which "the body of sin is destroyed," that is, evil dispositions and tendencies are "taken out of our flesh," and we are made "partakers of a Divine nature." We have no more direct and immediate agency in sanctification than we have in justification. Each, with equal exclusiveness, is, I repeat, a gift of grace, and each is vouchsafed on the same condition as the other. "If we confess our sins, He is faithful and just to forgive us our sins, and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness," the forgiveness and the cleansing being each here expressly conditioned upon the same identical act on our part. The same holds true everywhere and in all cases. We are burdened with the consciousness of sin. The promise of pardon, and the condition on which the promise is to be fulfilled, are before us. To comply with the condition is our part in the transaction. The condition being complied with, our responsibility in the matter is at an end. The prerogative of pardon is with God. "It is God that justifieth." How are we to obtain the grace of sanctification? In illustration, I cite the following promise, Ezek. xxxvi. 25—27: "Then will I sprinkle clean water upon you, and ye shall be clean from all your filthiness, and from all your idols, will I cleanse you. A new heart also will I give you, and a new spirit will I put within you: and I will take away the stony heart out of your flesh, and I will give you an heart of flesh. And I will put My Spirit within you, and cause you to walk in My statutes, and ye shall keep My judgments, and do them." Three great blessings, in all fulness, are here specifically promised; namely, full and perfect cleansing from all sinful dispositions, tendencies, and habits; equally full and perfect renewal, "the gift of a new spirit," and "a heart of flesh," in the place of the heart of stone which "had been taken out of the flesh;" and the "gift of the Holy Ghost," by Whose indwelling the believer is "endued with power" for every good word and work, and perfected in his obedience to God's statutes and judgments.

The reader will notice that every item of this promise stands before us as the exclusive work of God. "I will sprinkle," &c. How may this promise be fulfilled in the experience of the believer? We find the answer in the thirty-seventh verse of this same chapter: "Thus saith the Lord God I will yet for this be inquired of by the house of Israel, to do it for them." To come to God by Jesus Christ, to have these things done for us, is our part in the matter of sanctification. This revealed condition being complied with, God vindicates His trustworthiness by doing in us the work which He has bound Himself by promise to accomplish; that is, "He saves to the uttermost," "sanctifies wholly," and "preserves the whole spirit, and soul, and body blameless unto the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ." We enter God's "highway," "The Way of Holiness," by this one gate, and none can enter by any other. We enter "by faith," and "we walk by faith" after we have entered. Sanctification and justification being both in common, and with the same exclusiveness, gifts of God, the one is just as instantaneous as the other. Sanctification is one thing; "growth in grace" is quite another, and the latter is conditioned on the former. Growth is not recovery, recovery from natural, mental, or spiritual disease, but the development and expansion of healthy powers and susceptibilities. Christian virtue must be in a healthy or perfect state, before it can have any but a sickly, deformed, and dwarfish growth. On this subject the teachings of the sacred Word are absolute. "Unto you that fear My name shall the Sun of Righteousness arise with HEALING in His wings: and ye shall go forth, and grow up as calves of the stall." First, the healing, restoration to health, or sanctification; then growth, "growth in grace." This is God's order. If we seek growth before health, or mistake the former for the latter, we shall grow in feebleness, instead of "going from strength to strength." Sanctification, like the forgiveness of sin, being exclusively the gift of God, is, as I have said, instantaneous. Growth, on the other hand, being the result of the co-operative agency of the spirit of man and the Spirit of God, is progressive, and eternal in continuance.

"Old things passed away, and all things became new," in the entire sphere of Christian thought, inquiry, and experience, when the truth under consideration opened with full-orbed distinctness upon my mind. The bright shining of this great truth shed the clearest sunlight upon "the Highway of Holiness," making perfectly manifest the reasons and causes of all my former failures, on the one hand, and the secret of Divine success, on the other. When, with a humble, self-renouncing, and trustful heart, "God is inquired of to do it for us," He has bound Himself by absolute promise to do two things for us—to justify us freely by His grace, and to "sanctify us wholly;" each being equally with the other a gift of grace, and the one as exclusively as the other God's Divine work, and He being just as able and trustworthy to do the one as to do the other. Each is alike possible with God, and equally possible to him that believeth.

Sanctification, like pardon, I have found in experience to be an instantaneous work. Propensities which, from childhood up, and not less during the first years of my Christian life than during my impenitency, had had absolute control when strongly excited, in a moment lost utterly and for ever their power, being superseded by a new and right spirit of an opposite character. If I am conscious of anything, I am conscious of being, "by the cross of Christ, crucified to the world, and the world to me." Nor was this crucifixion a long or a painful process. When a penitent, self-renouncing, fully consecrated, and trustful soul has put itself into the hands of Christ for pardon, or for cleansing, "a short work will the Lord make," and an equally short one in each case. The work of the Spirit in soul-renewal is in revealed accordance with the "working of the mighty power which He wrought in Christ, when He raised Him from the dead," and is consequently as instantaneous and all-efficacious in the former as it was in the latter case.

III. The resemblance and contrast under consideration become still more distinct and palpable when we refer to the apprehensions entertained, in these two forms and periods of the Christian life, in respect to the offices and functions of the Holy Spirit. All evangelical believers regard the Holy Spirit as the Author of conviction of sin, of regeneration, and as working in the believer for his sanctification. When He has convicted the sinner of "sin, of righteousness, and of judgment," and has completed the work of regeneration, He then, as is commonly supposed, by a gradual process, "little by little," carries forward the work of sanctification, perfecting it at death, and never before. In revivals of religion, and at special periods of the Christian life, the influences of the Spirit are expected in special power. To be "filled with the Spirit" is to receive a fuller measure of Divine influence than had been previously enjoyed, the influence being the same in kind, and differing only in degree, in both cases. In common Christian regard, the Spirit is a Divine Influence, rather than a Divine Personal Presence. Hence, the pronouns He and Him are applied to the Father and Son, and it to the Spirit. The Holy Ghost, as the "Comforter," Who, as an abiding Personal Presence, takes the place left vacant by the withdrawment of the bodily presence of Christ; the Holy Ghost, as "the promise of the Father;" "the baptism of the Holy Ghost," "the enduement of power from on high," which constitutes the peculiarity and glory of this dispensation; all this, with few exceptions, has been for ages in the Churches what a clergyman of the Church of England, the Rev. C. Bullock, rightly denominates "the forgotten truth." Mr. Moody tells us that he had been some twenty years a believer in Jesus before he ever heard of this great central truth. With the age of miracles, the gift of the Spirit at the Pentecost was supposed to have passed away. Now we were held to enjoy only the influences common to all believers in both dispensations. Such was the light in which I regarded the subject during the first and darkened period of my Christian life. Hence, with the mass of believers, "the glory which followed the sufferings of Christ" has passed away. With the exception of those who have found "the new and living way," none now "return and come with singing unto Zion, with everlasting joy upon their heads." On the other hand, they obtain sorrow and sighing, and joy and gladness flee away.

To understand the doctrine of the Holy Ghost as set forth in the New Testament, we need to recur to facts recorded of the mission of the Spirit in the old dispensation. The Spirit was then, as now, among men as a convicting and regenerating, and in believers as an enlightening and sanctifying, power. To the prophets, on the other hand, He was given as a special enduement of light and power, to qualify them for the peculiar and special functions of the prophetic office. The individuals thus endowed stood as mediums of communication between the people and God, and wrote and spoke as they were enlightened and "moved by the Holy Ghost." The prophet did not receive the Spirit merely in a greater measure than others, but in a new and special relation vouchsafed only to him. The prophetic spirit was given, "put upon" and "came upon" the prophet at a particular period of his life, and as a special and supernatural "enduement of power." Thus, when God, as He had promised to do, took of the Spirit that was upon Moses, and gave Him to the seventy elders that were gathered for the purpose at the tabernacle, we read, Num. xi. 25, that "when the Spirit rested upon these men, they prophesied, and did not cease." The gift here was not an increase of what they had before possessed, but the impartation of new powers, in consequence of the fact that "the Spirit was upon them," in a form in which they had never received Him before. So when Elijah, before his translation, said unto Elisha, "Ask what I shall do for thee before I be taken from thee," the latter replied, "I pray thee, let a double portion of thy spirit be put upon me." Elisha well knew that there was no growing into the prophetic spirit, but that this was a supernatural enduement of power, directly imparted by God. So it was in all cases. The prayer of Moses was: "Would God that all the Lord's people were prophets, and that the Lord would put His Spirit upon them!" Now what Moses so devoutly desired and prayed that all the Lord's people might become under the old, is by absolute promise assured to every believer under the new, dispensation; to every believer who will "receive the promise of the Spirit by faith." "All of thy children," says Isaiah, speaking of "the glory which was to follow the sufferings of Christ," "shall be taught of the Lord, and great shall be the peace of thy children." On this subject the prophet Joel—ii. 28—is perfectly explicit: "And it shall come to pass afterward, that I will pour out of My Spirit upon all flesh;" upon every member of the household of faith; "and your sons and your daughters shall prophesy;" that is, under "the baptism of the Holy Ghost," and, as moved by Him, "shall speak unto men to edification, and exhortation, and comfort;" just as the seventy elders in the camp of Israel did, after the Lord had put His Spirit upon them. Of two great facts we are absolutely assured in the second chapter of Acts; namely, that the baptism of the Holy Ghost received by the apostles and their associates, male and female, at the Pentecost, was a fulfilment of "the promise of the Spirit" given of God through the prophet Joel; and that that promise is the blood-bought inheritance of every believer, old and young, male and female, to the end of time. No candid reader of that chapter can doubt either of these propositions. And this "promise of the Spirit," for which the disciples were required to wait, is, next to the gift of Christ, of which the former is the complement, the great central theme of the New Testament. This is "the forgotten truth" of which I was utterly ignorant during the dim twilight period of my Christian life, and of which the mass of believers are as ignorant now as I was then.

What is the difference in the moral and spiritual state of believers who have, and those who have not, "received the Holy Ghost since they believed?" All in apostolic times, and after the Pentecost, did not receive "the promise of the Father." Those who had received the enduement were called "spiritual;" and those who had not received "the promise of the Spirit," were said to be "not spiritual, but carnal, babes in Christ." See I Cor. ii. 15; iii. 1—3. The difference between these two classes is that which obtained between the ancient prophets and the people around them; between Peter and his associates before and after the Pentecost; and between those whom Paul, in the passages above cited, designates as "spiritual," and those whom he speaks of as not spiritual, but carnal, babes in Christ." In the former the fruits of the Spirit appear and abound, to wit, "love, joy, peace, long-suffering, gentleness, goodness, faith, meekness, temperance." The latter "walk as men," having "among themselves envying, and strife, and divisions."

The revealed mission of the Spirit is, to "lead into all truth," "that we may know the things that are freely given us of God." In I Cor. ii. and iii., Paul speaks of three classes of individuals: "the natural man, who receiveth not the things of the Spirit of God;" "the spiritual man," who "judges" (knows) "all (these) things; "and the believer, who is "yet carnal, a babe in Christ." Let us see if we cannot obtain a clear apprehension of the real relations of these three classes of individuals to "the things of the Spirit of God." The reader recollects the scene which occurred at Dothan, when a great host of the Syrians encompassed the city by night to capture the prophet Elisha. In the morning, when the servant of Elisha saw the host, he cried out in terror, "Alas, my master, what shall we do?" "Fear not," replied the prophet, "for they that be with us are more than they that be with them." The servant no doubt believed what the prophet said. The things spoken of, however, were not real to him, until, in answer to the prayer of the prophet, "the Lord opened the eyes of the young man." Then he saw the facts as they were, and the fiery hosts "round about Elisha" were just as real to the servant as they were to the prophet. Let us suppose that three individuals representing the three classes above designated were present on that occasion,— "the natural man," the believer who is "yet carnal," and "the spiritual man," the servant whose eyes have been opened to see the real facts. To these individuals the prophet makes a full statement of the facts just as he sees and apprehends them. All in common understand what is told them. But when questioned about what they think as to what they have heard, how diverse their answers! The reply of "the natural man" is, "I don't believe a word of it. It is all nonsense. The Syrians are there. I see them. But the fiery host! I don't believe a word about it." "They are foolishness to him; neither can he know them, because they are spiritually discerned." The believer who is "yet carnal," when asked what he thinks of what the prophet has told them, replies, "I understand what has been told us, and believe every word of it. Yet the words of the prophet don't seem real to me. The hostile host seems real, because I see it. All is vacancy between us and that host. The fiery host is, no doubt, round about us, as the prophet states. But the facts don't seem so to me." To the same question the "spiritual man," the servant whose eyes have been opened, replies, "I know that what the prophet has told us is true. The fiery host is more real to me than is that of the Syrians, because I see the former with more impressive distinctness than I do the latter." "The natural man," the believer who is "yet carnal," and "the spiritual man," read the Word of God. Each, in common with the others, understands what he has read. How diverse, however, are their relations to the eternal verities themselves of which they have read! All is "foolishness" to the natural man; nor "can he know the things of the Spirit." The believer who is yet carnal understands what he reads, and fully credits every word of it. Yet the eternal verities of which he reads are not real to him. He does not "see God," nor "behold with open face as in a glass the glory of the Lord," because he has not yet "received the Spirit which is of God; that he might know the things which are freely given us of God." To "the spiritual man," on the other hand, the visible world around is not so real and all-impressive as are "things unseen and eternal;" the eternal verities which the Spirit of God makes manifest to the opened vision of the inner man. He not only believes, but "knows that God has given unto him eternal life, and that that life is in His Son." "Christ knows him, and he knows Christ, even as the Father knew Him, and He knew the Father," while He abode in the flesh. He "comprehends the breadth, and length, and depth, and height, and knows the love of Christ, which passeth knowledge," and "beholds with open face as in a glass the glory of the Lord."

Such were my distinct and opposite experiences, during the two periods of my Christian life under consideration. During the former I was a very diligent student of the Word of God, and I clearly understood its revealed facts, doctrines, moral precepts, and revelations of "things unseen and eternal," and I fully credited all I read. Yet the eternal verities of which I read were not real to me; nor could I make them such. How often, and with what deep gloom, did I say to myself, "The water which Christ has given me is not in me 'a well of water springing up into everlasting life;' nor is there from my inner being the outflow of 'rivers of living water.' Nor have I the conscious indwellings, the open beholdings, and the fulness of joy, absolutely promised to the saints of God. On the other hand, 'I fear the Lord, and obey the voice of His servant, and yet walk in darkness, and have no light.'"

But what a change occurred in my whole inner and outer life, when I "received the promise of the Spirit by faith," and became conscious of His personal indwelling, enduements of power, and Divine enlightenments! It was an instantaneous passage from the dimmest twilight into cloudless noon. "The things freely given us of God" were all real now. As I turned over the sacred page, the Word of God became transfigured before me, and appeared in glory, like the New Jerusalem, "coming down from God out of heaven." I walked up and down in the midst of its great revelations, wondering with unutterable wonder that I had never thus apprehended these realities before. In this marvellous light it has been my privilege to walk during the past forty-six years; and I repeat what I have so often said before, that my "sun does not go down, neither does my moon withdraw itself." To be New-Testament saints, we must wait "the promise of the Father," until He shall take of the Spirit Whom He put upon Moses, upon the seventy elders, upon all the prophets, upon Christ at Jordan, and upon the apostles and their company at the Pentecost, and shall put that Spirit upon us. Then, and not till then, shall we "comprehend the breadth, and length, and depth, and height, and shall know the love of Christ which passeth knowledge, that we may be filled with all the fulness of God."

IV. The resemblance and contrast of which we are speaking become, also, most impressively manifest when we contemplate the relations of Christ to believers in the two states under consideration. When Christ was about to "leave the world and go unto the Father," He set forth, for the consolation of His sorrowing disciples, two "exceeding great and precious promises:" that on the condition that they should "love Him, and keep His commandments," He would "pray the Father for them, and He should give them another Comforter,"—"the Spirit of truth,"—that "He might abide with them for ever;" and that through the Spirit He (Christ) would come unto them, manifest Himself unto them, and, with the Father, make His abode with them. "I will not," He said, "leave you comfortless (orphans): I will come unto you." At that time, the world would not, but they would, behold Him, "behold with open face as in a glass His glory." Then, in the power and glory of His resurrection life, He would live in them, and reproduce that resurrection life in them. "Yet a little while," He says, "and the world seeth (will behold) Me no more; but ye see (will behold) Me. At that day (the day when I shall, through the Spirit, come to you) ye shall know that I am in My Father, and ye in Me, and I in you." This indwelling of Christ and the Father in the human soul, our Saviour subsequently expresses in such language as the following: "As Thou, Father, art in Me, and I in Thee, that they may be one in Us;" "I in them, and Thou in Me, that they may be made perfect in one; and that the world may know that Thou hast sent Me, and hast loved them, as Thou hast loved Me." This relation of Christ, as a personal presence in believers, a presence made manifest by the illumination of the Holy Ghost, is represented as the mystery and the glory of the present dispensation, a mystery and glory unknown to the ancient patriarchs and prophets, and to the apostles and New-Testament saints prior to the Pentecost, and which could by no possibility be revealed to any believer, until "after Jesus was glorified," and "the Holy Ghost was given." This, the apostle tells us, Col. i. 26, 27, is "the mystery which hath been hid from ages and from generations, but now is made manifest to His saints: to whom God would make known what is the riches of the glory of this mystery among the Gentiles; which is Christ in you, the hope of glory." This is the salvation of which, as Peter tells us, "the prophets inquired and searched diligently, who prophesied of the grace which should come unto you; searching what, or what manner of time, the Spirit of Christ Who was in them did signify, when He testified beforehand the sufferings of Christ, and the glory that should follow."

The mission of the Spirit, as "the Comforter," "the promise of the Father," and the prophetic Spirit in believers, together with God's plan for the sanctification of His saints, and the salvation of the world, now became manifest. By the power of the Spirit, Christ was raised from the dead, seated at the right hand of God, and made manifest to the glorified spirits around the throne, thus rendering Him the Light of heaven. When "Christ entered heaven itself," and, by the Holy Ghost, was "made manifest" there, heaven had its Pentecost, its "baptism of the Holy Ghost." As the glory of God shone out through the face of Jesus Christ, every glorified spirit before the throne was, at once, lifted to a plane of light, glory, and blessedness, impossible before. "And the city had no need of the sun, neither of the moon, to shine in it: for the glory of God did lighten it, and the Lamb is the Light thereof."

Such is the mission of the Spirit relatively to Christ in heaven. On earth, and relatively to the Church and the world, His mission is equally manifest. It is, first of all, to make Christ, in the power and glory of His resurrection, manifest in the hearts, and to the opened vision, of the believer, as He has been "made manifest in heaven itself before the face of God." When we shall be "strengthened with might by the Spirit in the inner man, that Christ may dwell in our hearts by faith," and we, being rooted and grounded in love," shall "comprehend the breadth, and depth, and length, and height, and shall know the love of Christ which passeth knowledge," and be "filled with all the fulness of God;" when we shall "behold with open face the glory of the Lord, and shall be changed into the same image from glory to glory, even as by the Spirit of the Lord;" when Christ shall be in us as the Father was and is in Him, and "we shall live by Christ, as He lived by the Father," and we shall know "the riches of the glory of this mystery among the Gentiles, which is Christ in you, the hope of glory; "when the Spirit shall have perfected all this in us, then His mission for our personal sanctification and blessedness is accomplished. But His mission does not end here. "God, who commanded light to shine out of darkness, hath shined in our hearts, to give (to all the world) the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ." When Christ is in the soul, and dwells there, as "its everlasting light," that light cannot be hid, but will become visible to all the world around, as the light of God "in the face of Jesus Christ." Christ is then "lifted up," and will "draw all men unto Him." It is not, as many suppose, by an eye-vision of Christ, but by His glory made manifest through His in-dwellings in believers, that the millennium is to be introduced. "For, behold, the darkness shall cover the earth, and gross darkness the people: but the Lord shall arise upon Thee, and His glory shall be seen upon Thee. And the Gentiles shall come to Thy light, and kings to the brightness of Thy rising." "I in them, and Thou in Me, that they may be made perfect in One; and that the world may know that Thou hast sent Me, and hast loved them, as Thou hast loved Me." The fact that the world is not likely to be converted through the instrumentality of the Church, while the high mission of the Spirit in this dispensation, and "the riches of the glory of this mystery among the Gentiles, which is Christ in us, the hope of glory," are forgotten truths, is no evidence at all that this will not be the case, when "her light shall have come, and the glory of the Lord shall have risen upon her."

Such, to Christ, on the one hand, and to the world, on the other, are the relations of all believers who "wait the promise of the Father," until "they are all filled with the Holy Ghost." They "walk in the light, as God is in the light;" they "have fellowship one with another," and with God: "We will come unto him, and make Our abode with him." "Their joy," consequently, "is full." "They are in the world, as Christ was in the world;" and through them God gives to the world "the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ."

What are the relations to Christ of the mass of believers in the ministry and in the Churches? What were my own relations, also, during the first eighteen years of my Christian life? Let us suppose, that when Christ ascended from Olivet, He had sent forth His disciples on their world-mission just as they then were, and that they had gone forth without the Pentecostal enduements of power, and consequently with no experience of "the riches of the glory of this mystery among the Gentiles, which is Christ in the soul, the hope of glory." What, in such a case, must have been their subsequent life experience? They would have had in remembrance the facts of Christ's life as they had witnessed them, such as His mighty works, His death, resurrection, and ascension from Olivet. They would have retained, with greater or less distinctness, His words of instruction and admonition, and especially His assurance that He went from them "to prepare a place for them;" and that when the time should come for them to die, He would then "come again and receive them to Himself, that where He is, there they may be also." With these remembrances and assurances, but with none excepting the ordinary influences of the Spirit, such as they had before enjoyed, they go forth to their appointed mission and work. For a time, no doubt, the great joy with which they returned from Olivet to Jerusalem, would have remained in their hearts, and with very considerable "power they would have given witness to the resurrection of the Lord Jesus." Nor would their testimony have been altogether fruitless, but would have been attended with conversions in greater or less numbers. Christ, however, would no longer be to them, as He had been, a visible Presence, walking with them, and "speaking to them of the things pertaining to the kingdom of God." Nor would He be to them, what He was after the Pentecost, an internal glory-manifested personal Presence in their hearts. On the other hand, when they would think of Christ, they would call to mind what they had seen and heard from Him, while He was with them, and especially that ascension scene at Olivet. Lastly, they would think of Him, as having "left the world and gone to the Father," and as then being at an infinite and unapproachable remove from them. As a necessary consequence, their former joys would gradually fade out, their apprehensions of Christ would become more and more dim and unimpressive, while a feeling of orphanage would more and more pervade their whole inner being. They would more frequently "weep for sorrow of heart" than "sing for joy of heart." As the final result, the converts whom they should gather in would be few, and "a feeble folk;" the martyr age would never have occurred, and Christendom would not be even what it now is.

With believers generally, the mass of the ministry included, the case is still worse. They have never, as the apostles and their companions did, seen and heard Christ, as an embodied, visible Presence. Nor do they know Him, as an internal, Spirit-manifested, personal Presence. He and the Father have not, in the Spirit, "come to them, and made Their abode with them." Consequently, not having "received the Holy Ghost, since they believed," they are strangers to "the riches of the glory of this mystery among the Gentiles, which is Christ in you, the hope of glory." Christ to them, on the other hand, is not very nigh them, in their mouths and in their hearts, but afar off amid the spirits around the throne. They have no open and all-transforming beholdings of His glory. All that is written of Christ in the Scriptures they fully believe, and they exercise full faith in Him for the forgiveness of their sins. This is almost the only relation, however, in which they really know Him. In their practical regard, He is too far removed from them to exert any direct and transforming personal influence over them. He did love them, so they feel, when He bore their sins in His own body on the tree. They believe that He does love them now. But they have never seen Christ, as, in spirit, the apostles saw Him, after the Pentecost; and as He has never directly manifested Himself to them, His love to them does not seem to be real, and exerts no constraining influence upon them. They know well, when they seriously reflect upon the subject, as they are sometimes compelled to do, that their experience ought not to be what it is; that the words of Christ, instead of being to them "as a dead letter," should be "as a burning fire shut up in their bones;" and that, instead of being overcome by the world, they should "be crucified to the world, and the world to them." But it is not so, and all their efforts to be and to do and to become what is required of them, only render them more and more distinctly conscious of their soul-emptiness, darkness, and insensibility to things unseen and eternal. The sense of orphanage rather than sonship, of deadness to the things of God rather than to the things of the world, and of bondage rather than of liberty, have a leading place in their religious consciousness.

Such was my experience during the first eighteen years of my Christian life. I read such passages as the following: "Whosoever drinketh of this water shall thirst again: but whosoever shall drink of the water that I shall give him shall never thirst; but the water that I shall give him shall be in him a well of water springing up into everlasting life." "He that believeth in Me, as the Scripture hath said, out of his belly shall flow rivers of living water." All this in all its fulness, I said, ought to be, but is not, true in my experience; and I do not know how thus to attain myself, nor as an under-shepherd and bishop of souls do I know how to lead the church, which I have covenanted to feed, "out of darkness into this marvellous light." Most deeply moved and affected I was, when I compared, or rather contrasted, my own relations to the love of Christ with those of Paul. With him that love was indeed "as a burning fire shut up in his bones;" and knowing that love as he did, his life could not but have been what it was. I did not thus know that love, and was not thus constrained by it. As a consequence, I could by no possibility, until I did thus know that love, be and do what was required of me, as a believer in Jesus, and a minister of the everlasting Gospel. For this state, there is, as I found in my own experience, and as multitudes are finding in theirs, but one remedy, and that is an all-efficacious one. We must do as the apostles and their associates did at the beginning. In a state of entire surrender and consecration to Christ, we must, "in prayer and supplication, wait the promise of the Father," until we "are all filled with the Holy Ghost."

V. What is common to these two states and forms of the Christian life, and what is peculiar to this life in its higher and "spiritual" forms, become specially manifest, when we refer to the nature and sphere of the Christian warfare. In each state alike there is a warfare, a conflict, "a fight of faith." In the one state, however, defeat and captivity, and in the other, victory and liberty, are the uniform issues of this warfare. When we listen to the conversation of those who are moving upon the lower level of the Christian life, the level upon which the mass of believers are moving, we hear, when they speak upon this subject, of almost nothing but defeats, captivity under the law of sin, and groaning bondage under the weight of "the body of this death." Enter the other circle, and there our ears and hearts are gladdened, as we listen to almost nothing else than testimony to victories "by the blood of the Lamb, and the word of His testimony," "the glorious liberty of the sons of God," and being "more than conquerors through Him that loved us." In the one state, the movements of the church are like a funeral procession, while her dirge songs may well make angels weep, and devils triumph. In the other state, "the redeemed of the Lord return and come to Zion with songs and everlasting joy upon their heads." "They obtain joy and gladness, and sorrow and sighing flee away."

The sphere of this warfare is greatly diverse in these two states. In the first state, the conflict is almost exclusively with evil tempers, dispositions, habits, and lusts, "which war in the members," that is, with hostile powers within the citadel of the soul itself. The object of the warfare is, not the extermination of these enemies of God and the soul, and the creation, in their place, of "a clean heart and a right spirit." In this warfare evil principles so uniformly prevail that the believer never rises higher than to a state in which he is consciously "carnal, sold under sin."

In the other state, the "spiritual" form of the Christian life, the main sphere of "the good fight of faith" is, not with hostile forces "warring in the members," within the citadel of the soul, but with the powers of darkness in the world without. "We wrestle not against flesh and blood, but against principalities, against powers, against the rulers of the darkness of this world, against spiritual wickedness in high places." Hence, "the weapons of our warfare are not carnal, but mighty through God to the pulling down of strongholds." For the exigencies of this warfare the armour of righteousness is prepared, with required weapons of offence and defence. Every true believer is "called to be a soldier in the army of the Lord," and is expected to "fight a good fight," and to "endure hardness as a good soldier of Jesus Christ." To fully qualify him for his high calling, Christ Himself, through the Spirit, enters the citadel of the soul, puts to death "the lusts that war in the members," "destroys the body of sin," sanctifies to Himself "the whole spirit, and soul, and body," and then, under the power of the Spirit, sends the believer into the world, as the Father sent Him into the world. The true and proper warfare of the Christian now is, as Christ's was when He was in the world, with sin in all its forms, wherever it may appear.

My own life, in the two states under consideration, corresponded fully with these two ideas of the Christian warfare, in the one state, I was in a perpetual encounter with some evil temper, disposition, or "lust which warred in my members," with the groaning consciousness that myself, and not the foe I warred against, was most frequently the conquering power. When I attempted to do battle for Christ upon the evil that was in the world, I found my energies weakened or paralysed by the assaults of some inward foe.

What a change occurred when, at length, I was brought to "wait the promise of the Father," until I was "filled with the Holy Ghost," and, in the Spirit, Christ, as "King of kings, and Lord of lords," entered the citadel of my soul, and assumed His own place upon the throne of my heart. In a moment I knew what all such passages as the following mean: "I am crucified with Christ;" "By Whom I am crucified to the world, and the world to me;" "Our old man is crucified with Him, that the body of sin might be destroyed, that henceforth we should not serve sin;" "For me to live is Christ." One passion now had full possession of my whole being; and that was, "to make all men see what is the fellowship of the mystery which from the beginning of the world hath been hid in God, Who created all things by Jesus Christ;" "to the intent that now unto the principalities and powers in heavenly places (that is, unto all the world) might be known by the Church the manifold wisdom of God." I now go forth to do battle for my God, unhindered by hostile powers "warring against the soul," and that within the citadel of the soul itself; but with the consent and co-operation of all the powers and susceptibilities of my being. This is the only form of the Christian warfare that any believer should long know.

VI. Believers, represented by the apostle Peter as "newborn babes," are exhorted by him to "desire the sincere milk of the word, that they may grow thereby." Ministers are required, through the apostle Paul, "to feed the Church of God, which He hath purchased with His own blood." When I found myself an "overseer" of a blood-bought flock of Christ, I felt myself fully qualified to preach the Gospel to the impenitent portion of my congregations, and to lead inquiring souls quite to Christ for the pardon of their sins. I felt myself equally well qualified to expound exegetically the Scriptures, and to unfold and elucidate Christian doctrine, and the moral principles and precepts of the Gospel, and so far to edify the Church. As I knew well how to "teach transgressors God's ways," many sinners were converted to the Lord, and gathered into the fold under my ministry. When I contemplated the spiritual state of my flock, and that of the churches around me, however, I found that growth, "growth in grace," "growing up in Christ in all things," was really unknown among them, and that, in the judgment of the older disciples, the converts among us were having, in the fruitions of their primal joys, the brightest and best periods of their Christian experiences. Such a state of things, I said to myself, ought not to exist; but God's sheep and lambs ought to be so fed and nurtured that real growth in all Divine graces and virtues should be visible among them; in short, the membership should "go forth, and grow up as calves of the stall." The problem of problems which early presented itself to my mind was this: How may the flock of God be so fed and nurtured that existing evils shall be remedied, and the end under consideration be attained? When I turned my thoughts upon myself, and contemplated the facts of my own inner and outer life, I found that I was growing in my knowledge of Biblical exegesis, of Christian doctrine, and of the morality of the Gospel, and in my reputation as an effective teacher of truth in gathering souls into the churches. In the matter of personal holiness, however, my life was not a growth, but a comparative failure; nor could I answer to myself the question, "How can I make the advancements required?" Hence I became painfully, and at times agonisingly, conscious of a fundamental disqualification for the full discharge of the functions of my sacred office,—feeding Christ's sheep and lambs.

How could I lead others into the "new and living way" when I did not know how to find it for myself? I did the best I knew under the circumstances. For myself, I studied my Bible, thought and prayed much, read the memoirs of the holiest men known to me, and made inquiries of all individuals from whom I had the least hope of receiving light upon the great inquiry which so burdened my conscience and heart. For the flock under my care, my fixed aim was to impart to them "good doctrine," to render their mental vision clear and distinct of what the will of God and the law of duty require, to impress them with the clearest conviction that full obedience was their absolute duty, that for sin in any form there was no excuse, and to induce in them a full and fixed purpose of heart after full obedience. On all such subjects I cannot now discover how I could have inculcated and pressed upon believers "the whole duty of man" more fully and more earnestly than I did. The result was invariably the same. At the close of any service in which the conscience was thus addressed, I found, on going out of the place of worship, from two to half a dozen at least of my church members awaiting me for an answer to this one specific question, which was invariably put in these identical words: "Do you expect any Christian to be perfect in this life?" If I attempted to evade the question, I was pressed until the specific answer which my known doctrine compelled me to give was received, to wit, "No, I do not expect that of any believer." Nor could I shape the answer so that it would not be a paralysis of the will, in respect to any convictions of duty, or purposes of obedience, which my preaching might induce. Nor can any individual so hold or teach that doctrine that it shall not sit as a nightmare upon the heart of the believer, blunting his conscience, and paralysing his purposes of obedience. But when I myself inquired for God's "Highway of Holiness," or after that form of spiritual life to which such individuals as Paul and the other apostles attained after the Pentecost, or when earnest inquirers came to me for light upon such a momentous question, I at once became most painfully conscious of my own personal want of requisite knowledge of the Way of Holiness, and of a most essential disqualification for the discharge of the most important and divinest functions of a minister of Jesus Christ. The great burden of my Christian, and especially of my ministerial, life, was the inward consciousness that I did not know the secret of attaining to that level of holy living to which Paul and the apostles and their associates undeniably did attain after the Pentecost; neither could I teach inquirers after this "new and living way" how to find and enter it. When I saw my inquiry room filled with convicted sinners, how often would I say to myself, "If there was an individual present who could make known to me the secret of that Divine life after which I am inquiring, I would gladly take my place among the inquirers before me."

What a change came over my inner and outer life, together with my qualifications for the functions of the sacred office, when the Spirit of God "opened my understanding" to understand the true secret of "the life of God in the soul of man!" Directly before me stood revealed to my opened vision "a fountain opened for sin and for uncleanness." There I could find a Divine cleansing "from all my filthiness, and from all my idols." There I could be "washed, and made whiter than snow." Nothing appeared so possible to my faith as "salvation to the uttermost." In being thus taught of the Lord myself in respect to the question of my own personal holiness, I found myself possessed of new qualifications and higher enduements than I ever thought of before, for the highest functions of the sacred office, "feeding the flock of God." The true and Divine method of leading an inquiring saint "out of darkness into God's marvellous light," became just as plain as was that of leading an inquiring sinner to Christ for the pardon of his sins. It was not for self-glorification, but to magnify the grace of Christ, that Paul said, "I can do all things through Christ Who strengtheneth me."

How often did I repeat to myself the memorable words of Paul: "Blessed be God, even the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies, and the God of all comfort: Who comforteth us in all our tribulation, that we may be able to comfort them which are in any trouble, by the comfort wherewith we ourselves are comforted of God." No truth is more omnipresent in my thoughts than this, that there is no soul-need for which there is not in Christ a full and rich and free supply. To direct inquiring sinners to "the Lamb of God Who taketh away the sin of the world," and to lead inquiring saints to "the fountain opened for sin and for uncleanness," is now the luxury of my being; and it is just as easy to direct the inquirer in the one case as in the other.

Such are the relations of resemblance and contrast between the two states and forms of the Christian life and experience under consideration. In the first state, the lower plane, through false doctrine, and a wrong interpretation of certain texts of Scripture, weights are hung upon the faith of the believer, weights which render impossible an entrance into the revealed "liberty of the Sons of God." While believers regard it as a revealed truth of God, that they will, in fact, "sin daily in thought, word, and deed," the exercise of faith to be "sanctified wholly," and "saved to the uttermost," becomes an utter impossibility. As we do not, and cannot, in such case, know how much sin we shall commit, or how far short we shall fall of what is required of us, we can never exercise faith for any specific form or degree of holiness at which we shall aim. The individual who regards I John i. 8 as applicable to all believers at their best possible estate in this life, can have no apprehension what the revealed provisions and promises of grace pertaining to present sanctification really mean. No practicable standard is, or can be, before his mind, as the object of faith. To avoid "staggering at the promises of God through unbelief," is a practical impossibility. How can those who are ignorant of, or deny, the doctrine of the baptism of the Holy Ghost, "receive the promise of the Spirit by faith"? They are necessarily shut out from all experimental "knowledge of the riches of the glory of this mystery among the Gentiles, which is Christ in you, the hope of glory." A veil is upon their hearts in reading God's "exceeding great and precious promises," which hides from their hearts the face of the Sun of Righteousness. The removal of this veil will be to them as life from the dead, or a translation out of darkness into everlasting sunlight.

CHAPTER XIV.

THE REASON FOR THE HOPE THAT IS IN ME.

THE reader has already been made aware that I was born and educated, and spent the early years of my Christian life, in the midst of "the straitest sect" of the Calvinistic faith; and that subsequent and wholly independent inquiries have conducted me to the antipodes of all the peculiarities of that faith. As quite forty-six years have passed since this change occurred, and as I have, during this period, carefully surveyed and resurveyed the whole field, and discussed the subject in all its forms, I regard it as a legacy which I owe to the present generation, and to posterity, to lay before the Church and the world the reasons for the great change under consideration, and for the special form of belief and hope which I now entertain. The apostle Paul, during the early part of his life, "according to the most straitest sect" of the Jews' religion, "lived a Pharisee;" and then, until his course was finished, "according to the most straitest sect" of the Christian religion, he lived a believer in Jesus. The fact, that he had had these two distinct and opposite experiences in their maturest and most reflective forms, enabled him to set forth the reasons and grounds of his faith and hope, as a Christian man, in a manner that would have been otherwise impossible to him. I do not by any means claim for myself any such pre-eminence as belonged to the apostle of the Gentiles. I may have reasons, however, for my change of views and form of life, reasons which are worthy of the special attention of the reader. The presentation of such reasons is the subject of the present chapter. My reasons for my abandonment of the Calvinistic doctrine of decrees, of eternal and unconditional election and reprobation, and of the subjection of the will to the law of necessity, and doctrines necessarily connected with these, I have already given in preceding chapters. It remains only to speak of those by which I have become identified with a special class of believers within the circle of the evangelical faith. I refer to two great doctrines which have been the theme of my life during the past forty-six years, and with the vital importance of which I am more and more impressed; namely, the doctrine of Christian Perfection, and that of the Baptism of the Holy Ghost. I shall consider them in the order here specified, and begin with that of

Christian Perfection.

This doctrine is designated by different writers by diverse terms, as Full Salvation, Entire Sanctification, Perfect Love, Full Assurance, and the Higher Life. For myself, I am entirely indifferent in regard to terms, when it is distinctly understood that the real doctrine is represented by the term employed. Let it be understood that when I employ any one of these terms, I employ it in the same sense that I do each of the others, and always as representing this one exclusive doctrine. By Entire Sanctification, or Christian Perfection, I mean entire salvation from sin, and full obedience at each successive moment to all that God requires of the creature at that moment. In the language of Scripture, the form of life under consideration implies "redemption from all iniquity," a "cleansing from all unrighteous- ness," on the one hand, and "standing perfect and complete in all the will of God," on the other. By the state under consideration I do not understand mere separation from actual sin, on the one hand, and full actual obedience, on the other. I understand more than this by this state namely, a renewal of the spirit, and temper, and dispositions of the mind, and of the tendencies and habits which impel to sin, and prompt to disobedience to the Divine will. A fully sanctified believer, as I understand the subject, is not only voluntarily separate from sin, and in the will of God, but is in this state with the full assent, of every department of his moral and spiritual nature. He not only "feareth God, and escheweth evil," but "loves righteousness, and hates iniquity." These statements and expositions are sufficiently specific and full for an understanding and appreciation of the reasons which I am about to present in verification of the form of faith which I now hold and teach upon the subject under consideration. All are sufficiently aware of the meaning of the terms "holiness" and "sin," to examine the question whether the Scriptures do, or do not, teach the doctrine, that it is practicable for the believer, while in the body, to be rendered perfect in the one, and wholly saved from the other. Why do I, from my heart of hearts, answer that question in the affirmative?

Let me say here, that when the Spirit of God first made known to me the great error of my life in the matter of justification and sanctification, I had not the remotest anticipation of the change which has occurred in my views on the question under consideration. I had come to a distinct understanding of the revealed fact, and was very effectively teaching the doctrine, that sanctification is as really and truly a gift of grace, and as exclusively a work of God, as justification is, and that God, by the Spirit, sanctifies the soul on the same express condition on which He pardons sin. This doctrine I was then preaching, and that with a wonderful change in my inner and outer life, and with similar experiences on the part of many believers around me. Many were emerging "out of darkness into God's marvellous light," and were "rejoicing with joy unspeakable and full of glory," in the new life into which they had entered. At length, in a large meeting for prayer, praise, and inquiry, the late Rev. S. W. Streeter, one of our recent theological graduates, arose and spoke to this effect:—"We are being instructed, and with undoubted correctness, that we are to trust Christ for sanctification just as we do for justification; and that we are to expect, and to receive, the one on the same condition on which we do the other. There is one question to which I desire to receive a definite answer, namely, What degree of sanctification do the Scriptures authorise us to trust Christ for? May we, or may we not, trust Him to save us from all sin, and to sanctify us wholly, and to do it in this present life? I would very earnestly appeal to our beloved instructors, President Mahan and Professor Finney, for a specific answer to this question." The surprise, and, I may truly say, the horror, which I experienced on being thus suddenly and publicly confronted with that question, I shall not attempt to describe. "There," I inwardly exclaimed, "the work is all marred. They will all rush into Perfectionism." Perfectionism, a name originated and adopted by the advocates of a certain system, had, for a great number of years, been before the public. I fully understood the system, and knew it, as I now know it, to be one of the most dangerous delusions that Satan ever invented. Its Satanic morals were not, however, at that time, fully understood; morals which, as soon as they were understood, reduced the sect to the limits of some five or six hundred members.

To the question presented, I at the time gave an answer in this form: "This we know to be true on this subject. 'Christ is of God made unto us' sanctification as well as justification, and the one upon the same condition as the other, namely, our faith. Trust Him, therefore, for the one, as you do for the other, and of all things avoid this sin, 'limiting the Holy One,' where He has not expressly limited Himself. So far, surely, we all may safely go, and are most sacredly bound to go. Whether, in the sphere of sanctification, Christ does proffer to our faith a present salvation as full and perfect as He does in that of justification, is a question to which I will give my most prayerful and careful attention, and will, if the Lord permits, furnish, in due time, a full and specific answer."

It was in these most impressive circumstances and relations that this great question was brought before my mind, and so submitted, that I was morally necessitated to give to the subject the consideration, and to furnish to the people the answer, which I had pledged. In turning my thoughts to the question, I found myself in relations to the subject itself such as I never occupied before, relations which required me to consider the whole matter from various standpoints entirely new to me, to which I would invite very special attention.

New Standpoints from which the whole Subject was presented to my Mind.

I. I found myself, as I have said, in entirely new relations to the subject of sanctification itself. The forgiveness of sin, or justification, as I clearly understood, was proffered upon specifically revealed conditions. The conditions being complied with, the act of pardon is wholly with God: "It is GOD that justifieth." Sanctification, on the other hand, I had regarded as a work, or process, wrought out in the believer through his own personal determinations and efforts, aided by the Spirit of grace. To one who views the subject from this one standpoint, the idea of present salvation from all sin, and "standing perfect and complete in all the will of God," ever must appear as one of the most absurd apprehensions that ever whirled in a human brain. The most that could be expected in such a case would be a gradual advance, "little by little," towards the perfected state aimed at. Now, however, the whole subject stood distinctly before my mind in an entirely new light. "Christ," and not our own determinations and efforts aided by the Spirit of grace, "is of God made unto us" "sanctification" just as exclusively, and on the same identical conditions, that He is made our "justification." "God justifies believers by faith," and He "purifies their hearts by faith." The revealed condition being complied with, the one is just as exclusively the work of God as is the other. It is our part, as the revealed condition of receiving the blessings provided for us, to "inquire of God to do it for us." It is, then, no more God's part to "justify freely by His grace," than it is to "sprinkle clean water upon us, and make us clean;" to "turn His hand upon us, and purely purge away our dross, and take away all our tin;" and "cleanse us from all unrighteousness." If sanctification and justification are both in common, and with equal exclusiveness, the work of God, why—the question spontaneously arose in my mind—should His own work be, in the one case, "perfect and entire, wanting nothing," and visibly imperfect and limited in the other, when He is undeniably just as able to "do a perfect work in one case as He is in the other?" I was thus prepared to examine the question from the only true and proper standpoint.

My own conscious experience, under this new and Divinely revealed aspect of the subject, imparted new and all-impressive interest to my inquiries. My inner life, as "I came unto God by Jesus Christ," not only for pardon, but for heart-purification, was taking a surprisingly new form. So new did my conscious experience become, that, for a time, I was in doubt whether I had ever before been converted, though all doubt upon the subject was subsequently removed. Old habits, evil tempers, and sinward propensities, which had been the bane of my impenitent career, and the cause of the groaning servitude of my primal Christian life, had suddenly lost all power and control. I became distinctly conscious to myself of being no longer "carnal, sold under sin," but the Lord's free man, emancipated from former enslavement, and now a Divinely inaugurated sovereign over those propensities. These facts gave most intense interest to the inquiry, Why should not the work of emancipation, thus begun, be rendered universal and entire? The very thought that it might be so, awakened an intense desire that it should be so. No one, who has not had the same experience, can conceive how irrepressible my "hunger and thirst after righteousness" full and complete became, and with what "strong crying and tears" I poured out my heart "to Him that is able to save," for salvation full and complete. In such desire and prayer, undeniably induced by the Spirit of God, the answer to my inquiries seemed to be anticipated. "Surely," a voice within seemed to say, "surely God will not do less, but exceeding abundantly above all that I ask or think." Yes, I did seem to anticipate the great verity thus impressively set before us by Dean Vaughan, Master of the Temple: "We are to believe, not in the suspension, or supersession, or down-trampling of what we call the laws of nature,—in other words, of God's ordinary method of procedure in regard to suns and worlds, to water and earth, to disease and infection, to life and death,—but in certain other things, which to eyes not spiritually enlightened are at least as difficult; we have to believe in the actual forgiveness of things actually done; we have to believe that that black, hateful thing done or said yesterday—even though it had fever in its breath, and corruption in its influence—can be, shall be, obliterated and annihilated in the blood of Jesus Christ, God's own Son, shed, outpoured for that purpose; we have to believe that that bad habit formed in boyhood, weakly yielded to in manhood, still strong, still predominant, can, by the grace of God,—shall, by the grace of God,—be vanquished in us, eradicated, burnt out of us, so that we shall be more than conquerors through Him that hath loved us."

Here, let me add, that no one can properly inquire whether such a doctrine is true, without an ardent inward desire that he shall find it true. Thus was I prepared to enter upon the inquiry under consideration, and to pursue it, from the only true and revealed Scriptural standpoint.

2. My new relations, into which I had consciously entered, to Christ, and my new apprehensions which I had received of His abiding in and with His people, had a most decisive bearing, as a preparatory and guiding light, in the inquiries before me. In my primal apprehensions, and as apprehended by ministers and believers generally, Christ, as a personally manifested Presence, is in heaven, and nowhere else. As omnipresent, He is, in fact, ever with us, and ever must be so. This, however, is very different from His direct and immediate personally manifested Presence. In this last sense, I never had apprehended myself as privileged at all to be indwelt by Christ. When I read of such indwelling, I supposed, as believers commonly do, that impressive thoughts of Christ were meant, and when I had such thoughts of Him, and my emotions were somewhat moved thereby, I supposed that this was what is meant by such words as, "The love of God is shed abroad in our hearts by the Holy Ghost;" "Christ in you the hope of glory;" "Christ dwelling in your hearts by faith." To be "filled with all the fulness of God," I supposed to mean having the mind occupied with full and engrossing apprehensions of God. Hence, my mind, in reading the Scriptures, in meditation and prayer, was ever struggling vainly after such distinct, impressive, and all-transforming thoughts of Christ, of God in Christ, and of "the love of Christ which passeth knowledge;" apprehensions of an absent and far distant Christ, and of the love of a Christ thus apprehended. Now, while I could clearly apprehend, through such study and meditations, that there is nothing to be compared to Christ, and God in Him, and that the love of Christ must pass knowledge, I could by no possibility obtain and maintain such thoughts and apprehensions of Christ as would induce in me, or anybody else, the Divine, or the inner, Christ-life portrayed in the Bible, the New Testament especially, much less as would enable me to overcome all sin, and "stand perfect and complete in all the will of God." Viewed from this standpoint, salvation from all sin, "through the knowledge of Christ," will ever appear, to a greater and greater extent, a vain hope.

But how changed was every aspect of this subject when the privileged relations of the believer to Christ came to be distinctly apprehended, and to be a matter of conscious experience! By the Spirit Christ was raised from the dead, seated at the right hand of God in glory, and made manifest in heaven itself before the face of God, and to heaven's glorified inhabitants, thus becoming the "everlasting light" of that glory-world. By the same Spirit Christ is, as a consciously apprehended personal Presence, to "come to the believer," be made manifest in him, just as He is made manifest before the face of God in heaven. In this internal personal manifestation, "Christ is to dwell in our hearts by faith," and we are to "behold His glory," as that glory is beheld before the face of God in heaven. The same words in the original are employed, John xiv. 21, to express the manifestation of Christ to believers here, as are employed, Heb. ix. 24, to represent His being made manifest (" to appear") "before the face of God for us," "in heaven itself." It is not thoughts or apprehensions of Christ, but Christ Himself, as a personally manifested Presence, to which the sacred writers refer, when they treat upon this subject. To read what they say upon the subject, according to the common understanding, makes their revelations perfectly absurd. For example: "To whom God would make known what is the riches of the glory of this mystery among the Gentiles, which is Christ," not thoughts of Christ, "in you the hope of glory." No, it is not mere thoughts of a distant and absent Christ, but Christ Himself, made personally manifest in us, that is to "dwell in our hearts by faith." When this great truth, the crowning glory of the new dispensation, opened distinctly upon my mind, and I came to have a conscious experience of the power of this indwelling, then the question, "What are the possibilities of faith in the matter of present sanctification?" stood out in an entirely new light before my mind. It really seemed a truth of absolute intuition, that when, by the free assent, and consent, and full choice of our heart of hearts, Christ thus dwells in our hearts by faith, and when He is permitted and desired to "work out in us all the good pleasure of His goodness, even the work of faith with power," He will not suffer sin, nor its bitter roots, the works of the devil, to dwell with Him in any one of these consecrated sanctuaries. So the subject will, and must, present itself to every reflecting mind. It was from this new and clearly revealed standpoint that I entered upon the inquiry under consideration.

3. The revealed mission of the Holy Spirit, as I came to fully understand and appreciate the subject, perfected the standpoint from which I entered upon the inquiry in respect to the possibilities of faith in this life. As I understood the subject during the primal period of my Christian life, the Spirit, after inducing repentance for sin, and regenerating the soul, carries forward, little by little, in co-operation with our purposes and efforts, the process of sanctification, never perfecting the work until death. To be "filled with the Spirit" is to have the mind fully occupied with apprehensions of Divine truth, never so fully, however, as to free the believer from the servitude of sin. Contemplating the subject from this standpoint, it is a simple absurdity to expect to reach a state of full salvation in this life.

But here, as I came afterwards perfectly to understand, is a most essential mistake in regard to the specifically revealed mission of the Spirit. Having induced repentance for sin, and regenerated the soul, He carries forward the process of sanctification, but all as a means to a higher end,—His personal coming to, and dwelling in, the believer, as "the Comforter," "the promise of the Father," and "the enduement of power from on high," for holy living and work. His revealed mission now is to "lead into all truth" pertaining to salvation in Christ, that "we may know the things which are freely given us of God;" to "strengthen us with might in the inner man, that Christ may dwell in our hearts by faith;" that "we, being rooted and grounded in love, may comprehend the length, and breadth, and depth, and height, and know the love of Christ which passeth knowledge;" "that we may be filled with all the fulness of God;" and finally that, "beholding with open face as in a glass the glory of the Lord, we may be changed into the same image from glory to glory, even as by the Spirit of the Lord." In judging of the present possibilities of faith in the matter of sanctification, we are to look at the subject, not from the common idea of the mission of the Spirit, but wholly from that aspect which God has distinctly presented in His Holy Word.

It was from the high standpoint furnished by the three corrected views above elucidated, that I entered upon the great inquiry under consideration—an inquiry which has resulted in the absolute assurance that the basis of my present faith is God's rock of truth. I now proceed to give my "reasons for the hope that is in me."

Reasons for my present Faith and Hope.

I. Contemplated from the standing-place furnished by the clearest and most absolute revelations of God's own Word, no doctrine is more reasonable in itself than is this doctrine of Entire Sanctification; nor can any doctrine be more unreasonable than is that of the continued sinfulness of all believers at their best estate in this life. Were sanctification the work of man, or even man's work aided by Divine power, it would, of course, be an imperfect work. But when we contemplate it, as inspiration has revealed it, as a work of God, God's work just as exclusively as is the pardon of sin, no reason can be conceived why the one should be perfect and complete, and the other a marred work, a work constituted of contradictions and incompatibilities. In all sincerity, we inquire of God to "sprinkle clean water upon us, and make us clean," to "cleanse us from ALL our filthiness, and from ALL our idols," and to "work in us ALL the good pleasure of His goodness." We are now wholly in God's hands, to accomplish in us just the form of work which He chooses, and whatever is done in us is His own handiwork. If sin is left in the soul, it will be because God chooses to let that amount of sin remain in us, rather than to have in its place perfect moral purity. It is an infinite slander upon the moral character of God to suppose that such should be His choice. Does God choose that believers shall serve Him with divided hearts, and not with "ALL their hearts, and with ALL their souls"? He undeniably does so, according to the doctrine of the continued sinfulness of believers in this life. I know that such a doctrine is not, and cannot be, true.

The believer, as we read, is "builded for an habitation of God through the Spirit." This Divine indwelling is expressed in Scripture by such language as the following: "I in them, and Thou in Me;" "We will come to him, and make Our abode with him;" "That Christ may dwell in your heart by faith;" "Christ in you the hope of glory;" and, "Our fellowship is with the Father, and with His Son Jesus Christ." The revealed condition of this indwelling is a full and complete surrender, on our part, of all the powers and susceptibilities of our being to the Divine occupancy and control. When this consecration is made on the part of the believer, will not Christ thoroughly purify His temple before He makes His abode in it? Will He, Whose crowning glory is that "He loves righteousness, and hates iniquity," make His abode where there is continuous sinning "in thought, word, and deed," and in the midst of sinful "lusts which war in the members," and induce "wars and fightings" in the household of faith? If so, then evil-doers can dwell with God, and God with them. Every right apprehension of the Divine indwelling is abhorrent to any idea of it but this, that it occurs but in a heart which is pure as its Occupant is pure. Those, and those only, who "walk in the light as God is in the light," have Divine "fellowship one with another," and "with the Father, and with His Son Jesus Christ." Let us listen for a moment to God's Word on this subject (2 Cor. vi. 16—18). I cite from Alford: "Ye are the temple of the living God; even as God hath said, I will dwell in them, and walk among them; and I will be their God, and they shall be My people. Wherefore" (as the immutable condition of enjoying this indwelling) "come ye out from among them, and be separate, and TOUCH not anything unclean, and I will receive you, and I will be unto you a Father, and ye shall be unto Me sons and daughters, saith the Lord Almighty." Now follows a repetition of the immutable condition of the indwelling. "Having therefore these promises, dearly beloved, let us cleanse ourselves from every pollution of flesh and spirit, perfecting holiness in the fear of God." Either deny the doctrine of the Divine indwelling altogether, or admit that it never occurs but where there has been a cleansing from every pollution of flesh and spirit, and where holiness has been perfected in the fear of God. Never, reader, entertain the idea that every Person of the sacred Trinity makes His abode in a human heart in the midst of continuous sinning, and beastly "lusts warring in the members."

"God, according to His mercy, saves us," as we read, "by the washing of regeneration, and the renewing of the Holy Ghost." The revealed mission of the Spirit is to perfect the work begun in regeneration, and to do this by so revealing Christ in us, that we, "beholding with open face as in a glass the glory of the Lord, shall be changed into the same image from glory to glory," and thus be "in the world, as Christ was in the world." Such being His revealed mission, how, the question arises—if there be no hindrance on the part of the believer, as there is not, when the whole being is consecrated for the Divine indwelling—how will the Spirit fulfil His mission? Will He, when He can do the one as well as the other, induce a perfect, or a marred, image and reflection of Christ? Do not, reader, wrong your own spirit and life, and cast dishonour upon Christ and the Eternal Spirit, by expecting anything less than to "be changed into the SAME image from glory to glory."

2. From a consideration of what is intrinsic in the question itself as viewed from God's revealed standpoint, I next fixed special attention upon the revealed purpose and intent of Christ's manifestation in the world, a purpose and intent expressed in Scripture in such forms as the following: "To make an END of sins, and to make reconciliation for iniquity, and to bring in everlasting righteousness;" "Thou shalt call His name JESUS, for He shall save His people from their sins;" "Ye know that He was manifested to take away our sins; and in Him is no sin;" "For this purpose the Son of God was manifested, that He might destroy the works of the devil;" "That He might redeem us from ALL iniquity, and purify unto Himself a peculiar people, zealous of good works." The conditions on which Christ will accomplish this, the revealed purpose and intent of His manifestation, are also specifically revealed. The question which here arises is this. The revealed conditions being complied with on the part of the believer, will Christ Himself fail on His part? If He should, in the case supposed, fail to "redeem from ALL iniquity," to "make an end of sins," and utterly to "destroy the works of the devil," this would undeniably evince a want of power to do what He came to accomplish, or a choice that sin should mar the lives of all who trust Him to "take away their sins." The reader will observe that it was no part of the revealed intent of His manifestation to take away sin gradually, "little by little," but to "make an end of sins." The conclusion which I drew, and now draw, from the revealed purpose of Christ's manifestation is this, that I shall trust Him to "take away my sins," and "make an end of them," and "destroy the works of the devil" in me, and to do it now; and that when I thus trust Him, He will effect "a short" and "a perfect work" in me. To trust for anything less than this, or to expect anything less in response to my trust, is to place my unbelief in direct opposition to the revealed purpose and intent for which "Christ loved me, and gave Himself for me." The revealed intent of Christ's manifestation, we must bear in mind, is specific, namely, not a partial, but a complete, salvation from sin. He came, not to redeem us in part, but from ALL iniquity; not to damage, but to "DESTROY, the works of the devil" in us. Such is the language always employed by the sacred writers when speaking on this subject. Their language, as we shall further see, is always so plain and specific, that no candid mind can misunderstand it. In the provisions and promises of grace, they always designate salvation from sin in its completeness, and sanctification in full entireness. Let the reader bear this distinctly in mind in reading what follows.

3. But Christ was not only manifested to "save His people from their sins," but stands distinctly and most prominently revealed in Scripture as ABLE thus to save and sanctify the believer, in response to his faith. This I lay down as a self-evident truth, that in revealing Himself as manifested to "take away our sins," and as ABLE to "save us to the uttermost," He authorises and requires us to trust Him for salvation in this specific form, and to do this with "full assurance of hope," that He will not do less than we trust Him to do for us. To deny this is to charge Christ with cruel mockery of our misery, and all the aspirations which the Spirit of God has induced in us. What, then, has Christ revealed Himself as able to do for us in the matter of salvation from sin? If we had but this one passage in the Bible, it would be all-sufficient: Heb. vii. 25: "Wherefore He is ABLE to save them to the UTTERMOST that come unto God by Him." The literal meaning of the original word rendered "uttermost," as all authorities agree, is "completely in all respects." This must include salvation from sin, in every form and degree. If there is sin in any form, actual or indwelling, from which the soul is not fully saved, there is not, in such case, salvation to the uttermost. When we come to God by Christ for salvation, we are undeniably authorised to expect salvation in this specific form and degree, or in none at all. But Christ has revealed Himself as able not only thus to save us, but also to keep us pure, after we have been thus saved. Jude 24, 25: "Now unto Him that is able to keep you from falling, and to present you faultless before the presence of His glory with exceeding joy: to the only wise God, our Saviour, be glory and majesty, dominion and power, both now and ever. Amen." The power is also revealed as possessed by God in Christ, to perfect the believer in all the practical duties of life. 2 Cor. ix. 8 : "God is able to make all grace abound toward you, that ye, always having all sufficiency in all things, may abound to every good work." Inspiration, in regard to this great salvation, lifts our thoughts still higher than this. Eph. iii. 20, 21: "Now unto Him that is able to do exceeding abundantly above all that we ask or think, according to the power that worketh in us, unto Him be glory in the Church by Christ Jesus throughout all ages, world without end. Amen." No one will question the meaning which we attach to these revelations of saving grace. My deduction from them is this: They authorise and require us to trust for, and expect, salvation in this one complete and perfect form. To deny this is to charge the Spirit of God with mocking our misery, and all the Divine aspirations which He has stirred up in our hearts, and to do this in the most revolting form conceivable, that is, revealing Christ as able, in the most vital of all our interests, to do for us what He requires us to believe He never will do. God forbid that I should ever lay a foundation for such a charge against the Spirit of Inspiration.

4. Equally plain and undeniable is the fact that Christ stands distinctly revealed in the Scriptures as having made provisions, full, complete, and specific, to "save them to the UTTERMOST that come unto God by Him." Eph. v. 25—27: "Christ loved the Church, and gave Himself for it, that He might sanctify and cleanse it with the washing of water by the word, that He might present it to Himself a glorious Church, not having spot, or wrinkle, or any such thing; but that it should be holy and without blemish." Titus ii. 14: "Who gave Himself for us, that He might redeem us from ALL iniquity, and purify unto Himself a peculiar people, zealous of good works." Hence we are distinctly taught that there is a sovereign efficacy in these provisions thus to sanctify and save "them that come unto God by Christ Jesus." I John i. 7: "The blood of Jesus Christ His Son cleanseth us from ALL sin." Heb. ix. 14: "How much more shall the blood of Christ, Who through the Eternal Spirit offered Himself without spot to God, purge your conscience from dead works to serve the living God!" For what purpose can these provisions for our "salvation to the uttermost" have been revealed, but to induce in us faith and hope for salvation in that specific form? No one would dare, in view of the passages before us, to deny the fulness and adequacy of the revealed provisions of grace for our entire and present sanctification. To teach that they are not available in their fullest extent, is to deny that they are real provisions at all; for provisions not available are mock, and not real, provisions. To teach that these provisions are not available to their fullest extent, is also to render them utterly indefinite, unmeaning, and inaccessible, so that we are left in utter ignorance of what they authorise us to trust and hope for.

5. From a consideration of the provisions, I next directed my attention to the revealed promises of grace for our present sanctification. The promises are given for two expressly revealed purposes: that we, by embracing them by faith, may be saved from all sin, on the one hand, and may become possessed of a "Divine nature," on the other. Thus we read, 2 Peter i. 4: "Whereby are given unto us exceeding great and precious promises that by these ye might be partakers of the Divine nature, having escaped the corruption that is in the world through lust." A Divine promise is God's pledge of payment, whenever and by whomsoever the revealed conditions are complied with; each promise pledges to our faith all that it specifies, or nothing at all. The revealed condition being fulfilled, every attribute of the Divine Nature binds and constrains the Most High to redeem to its minutest extent the promise.

Nothing can be more specific and absolute in meaning than are all the promises pertaining to salvation from sin, and present sanctification. Let us consider a few of them. Deut. xxx. 6: "And the Lord thy God will circumcise thine heart, and the heart of thy seed, to love the Lord thy God with all thine heart, and with all thy soul, that thou mayest live." Isaiah i. 25 "And I will turn My hand upon thee, and PURELY purge away thy dross, and take away ALL thy tin." Jer. 1. 20 : "In those days, and in that time, saith the Lord, the iniquity of Israel shall be sought for, and there shall be none; and the sins of Judah, and they shall not be found." Ezek. xxxvi. 25—27: "Then will I sprinkle clean water upon you, and ye shall be clean: from all your filthiness, and from all your idols, will I cleanse you. A new heart also will I give you, and a new spirit will I put within you: and I will take away the stony heart out of your flesh, and I will give you an heart of flesh. And I will put My Spirit within you, and cause you to walk in My statutes, and ye shall keep My judgments, and do them." I cite but one other of these exceeding great and precious promises. I Thess. v. 23, 24: "And the very God of peace sanctify you WHOLLY; " (in all respects to perfection—the exact and literal meaning of the original;) "and I pray God your WHOLE spirit and soul and body be preserved blameless unto the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ. Faithful (trustworthy) is He that calleth you, Who also will do it." Nothing but salvation from ALL sin in its entireness, and sanctification in full completeness, is here expressed, and salvation and sanctification in this one specific and exclusive form are here set forth in terms the meaning of which cannot be misunderstood. If they authorise and require us to "inquire of God to do" anything for us, they authorise and require us to ask and expect "salvation to the uttermost," and nothing less than this. So I reasoned, when I first examined the subject, and so I reason now. A denial of the doctrine of entire sanctification is nothing less, and can be nothing else, than a visible staggering at God's most sacred promises, all of which inspiration affirms to be "yea and amen in Christ Jesus."

6. I then, in the last place, directed special attention to inspired prayers recorded in Scripture, pertaining to this one subject. Of this we are positively informed in the Sacred Word, that the Spirit makes intercession for the saints for blessings which accord with the Divine will that is, induces them to pray for blessings which God will confer in answer to the prayer of faith. No truth to my mind can be more self-evident than this, that the Holy Spirit never did influence and inspire Christ and His apostles and saints to pray for a specific blessing, and inspire men to record in the Bible prayers for a specific blessing, which God, in the same Scriptures, requires us to believe He never did, and never will, bestow upon any believer. Think now of the prayer which Christ requires all believers, in all ages, to offer up, whenever they "come unto God through Him," to wit, "Thy will be done on earth, as it is in heaven." Then think of His intercessory prayer for all believers, on the evening preceding His crucifixion: "Neither pray I for these alone, but for them also which shall believe on Me through their word; that they all may be one; as Thou, Father, art in Me, and I in Thee, that they also may be one in Us: that the world may believe that Thou hast sent Me. And the glory which Thou gayest Me I have given them; that they may be one, even as We are One: I in them, and Thou in Me, that they may be made perfect in one; and that the world may know that Thou hast sent Me, and hast loved them as Thou hast loved Me." Must we believe that Christ thus requires all believers in all ages to pray, and that He Himself in that solemn hour did pray, for a blessing which is not "according to the will of God," which God, consequently, never did and never will bestow upon any believer? That these are prayers specifically for entire sanctification none will deny. The question, and the only question, before us is, Do they accord with the will of God?

Of the character or the prayers of inspired apostles and of holy men, "recorded for our instruction and admonition" in the New Testament, take the following as examples: "The very God of peace sanctify you wholly; and I pray God your whole spirit and soul and body be preserved blameless unto the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ;" "Now the God of peace, that brought again from the dead our Lord Jesus, that great Shepherd of the sheep, through the blood of the everlasting covenant, make you perfect in every good work to do His will, working in you that which is wellpleasing in His sight, through Jesus Christ, to Whom be glory for ever and ever. Amen;" "Epaphras, who is one of you, a servant of Christ, saluteth you, always labouring fervently for you in prayers, that ye may stand perfect and complete in all the will of God." Such is the unvarying character of those Spirit-inspired prayers, not at all for an increase of holiness, or for greater and greater freedom from sin, but for salvation "to the uttermost," and for a "standing perfect and complete in ALL the will of God." Do such prayers, which it would be an offence in us not to repeat, and that in all sincerity, pertain to what God requires us to regard as the unattainable? Does the Spirit of God thus contradict Himself? From my heart of hearts I answer, No. When we thus pray, we are bound to expect, not less, but "exceeding abundantly above all that we ask or think."

This, then, was the conclusion to which my inquiries conducted me, that the doctrine of Entire Sanctification is a truth of God, or I must hold and teach the following absurdities: that God of choice induces imperfect, when He might just as well induce perfect, moral and spiritual purity; that Christ "abides in believers" in the midst of constant sin, "in thought, word, and deed," and in the midst of warring lusts, when He might render His dwelling-place in their hearts an abode of perfect purity; that God does "dwell and walk" in believers when they do not "separate themselves," and cease to "touch anything unclean," nor "cleanse themselves from all pollutions of flesh and spirit, perfecting holiness in the fear of God;" that the Holy Spirit was given for the revealed purpose of making Christ manifest in us, so that we, "beholding with open face as in a glass the glory of the Lord, may be changed into the same image from glory to glory;" and that, of choice, the Spirit induces such obscure beholdings that we, at our best estate, can be changed, not "into the same image," but into an imperfect and marred likeness; that Christ is manifested for a distinctly revealed purpose and intent, to "take away our sins," and "destroy the works of the devil" in us, and that, of choice, He accomplishes that purpose and intent but in part; that while Christ stands distinctly and specifically revealed in the Word of God, as "able to save to the uttermost them that come unto God by Him," He of choice performs a limited and imperfect work in all such, though He is earnestly inquired of by them, to exert His full saving power upon them; that revealed provisions and promises of grace which specifically proffer to our faith sanctification complete and entire, are not in fact a basis of trust or hope for any such blessing; that the prayer of Christ Himself, the prayer which He requires all believers to put up, and the prayers of the apostles and saints of God, inspired by the Holy Ghost, have no efficacy to secure the object prayed for; and finally, that it is a perilous error to hold as true a doctrine verified by such evidence as this. Such is not the form of faith which I hold and teach.

Indwelling Sin.

There are not a few believers at the present time who admit and teach that we may, by faith, be saved from all actual, but not from indwelling sin. On this subject I remark:—

I. That the terms, "sanctified wholly," "saved to the uttermost," and "cleansed from ALL sin," must include sin in every form in which it really exists. It is a contradiction in terms to affirm that any person is "WHOLLY sanctified," "saved to the UTTERMOST," and "cleansed from ALL sin," when there is one form of sin, indwelling sin, from which he is not saved at all.

2. We might just as properly, and with just as full warrant from Scripture, that is, with no warrant at all, affirm that the Bible teaches salvation from indwelling, but not from actual, sin, as affirm the doctrine under consideration.

3. On this subject the testimony of Scripture is perfectly plain and explicit. All admit that the terms, "sin that dwelleth in us," "the body of sin," "the old man," "the law of sin and death," "the body of this death," and "lusts which war in the members," mean the same thing, and constitute what is called "indwelling sin." What, then, do the Scriptures mean by such expressions as these? "That the body of sin might be destroyed;" "condemned (to destruction) sin in the flesh;" "our old man is crucified with Him;" "take the heart of stone out of your flesh, and give you an heart of flesh;" "renew a right spirit (temper, disposition) within me," &c. No dogma can be more obviously unscriptural than is that of the non-destruction of the body of sin in believers.

4. Facts of experience, of the most palpable character, and of every variety of form, absolutely evince that in the renewing of the Holy Ghost believers are fully cleansed from indwelling as well as from actual sin. Tens of thousands of eminent and most trustworthy believers testify to being as conscious of permanent changes and renewals of evil appetites, tempers, and dispositions of the longest standing and dominion, as they are of their own existence. Nothing can be verified by testimony, if the fact of such changes cannot be. Those who deny that such changes are among the possibilities of faith, render impossible, this unbelief continuing, their "deliverance from the body of this death." "If ye will not believe, ye shall not be established."

Alleged Scripture Proofs of the Doctrine of Imperfection.

Against the doctrine of Entire Sanctification a certain number of passages of Scripture are adduced. To a consideration of these my most careful attention was directed. If, as is asserted by the advocates of this doctrine, it has been clearly and definitely affirmed in Scripture that no believer ever did, or ever will, in this life, attain to a state of entire sanctification, the question is for ever settled. Before the fact is admitted, however, it should be verified by absolute and indubitable proof, in view of the overwhelming weight of evidence on the other side. It is not my intention, in this connection, to go over all these texts, having done so in Christian Perfection and Out of Darkness into Light, and more fully still in a work entitled Misunderstood Texts. I shall do no more now than offer a few general considerations bearing upon the subject. As I entered upon a careful study of these passages, I found the following facts to be true of them, namely:—

I. The entire primitive Church, for the first four centuries at least, put a totally different construction upon these passages from that now put upon them by the advocates of the doctrine of Imperfection. The entire primitive Church, during these centuries, held as a most precious truth the doctrine of Entire Sanctification. I may refer in verification of these statements to the testimony of such men as Clement, Barnabas, Ignatius, Hermas, and Polycarp, companions of the apostles; and to such individuals in the post-apostolic age as Justin Martyr, Ambrose, Athanasius, and Chrysostom. Now it is hardly conceivable that such teachers as the above, and the entire primitive Church with them,—writers and believers, many of whom were companions of the apostles, and received the New Testament directly from the writers themselves,—should utterly misunderstand the sacred writers in respect to so plain and important a subject, and with regard to the meaning of such passages as Rom. vii. 14—25, Phil. 12—14, and I John i. 8. The universal assent of the primitive Fathers and Church to the doctrine of Entire Sanctification as a specific truth of God, is absolutely incompatible with any hypothesis but this, that the apostles did teach, and intended themselves to be understood as teaching, this doctrine.

2. The primitive exposition of these passages has been defended by the highest Biblical authorities since the primitive age passed away. As editor of The Banner of Holiness, we were requested by Canon, now Bishop, Ryle to furnish the names of post-primitive Biblical authorities who sustain the primitive exposition of Rom. vii. 14—25, namely, that the apostle here describes a legal experience in opposition to the faith experience described in the following chapter. We at once furnished the following names:—Erasmus, Raphael, Episcopius, Beausobre, Lenfant, Limborch, Turretin, Le Clerc, Herrmann, Bucer, Schorner, Franke, G. Arnold, Bengel, Reinhardt, Storr, Flatt, Knapp, Neander, Tholuck, Olshausen, Meyer, Mant, D'Oyley, Hammond, Whitby, Doddridge, Goodwin, Jeremy Taylor, Clarke, Stuart, Conybeare and Howson. No exposition rests upon a more sandy foundation than does the post-primitive exposition of these passages. Upon a foundation equally sandy must a doctrine rest which has no more solid basis than such proof texts as these.

3. The exposition given of these passages by the advocates of the doctrine of Imperfection renders unmeaning and indefinite many of the plainest and most important passages of Scripture, and in other cases, equally important, makes the Word of God most palpably contradict itself. If such terms as "sanctify wholly," "save to the uttermost," " cleanseth from all sin," "cleanse from all unrighteousness," and "preserve blameless," do not mean salvation from all sin, and entire sanctification, then who can tell us what they do mean? No man, living or dead, can tell us. All words of Scripture pertaining to the provisions and promises of grace are rendered utterly indefinite, and void of any assignable meaning.

If we suppose that Paul, in the words, "I am carnal, sold under sin," &c., did, as the entire primitive Church understood him, intend to describe a legal—and in the words, "The law of the Spirit of life in Christ Jesus hath made me free from the law of sin and death," intended to describe a faith—experience, then all is plain. But if we, as this exposition affirms that we must, understand the apostle as intending to teach and affirm, that both of these declarations were true of him at one and the same time, then he as palpably contradicts himself, as he would have done had he said that the same thing may, at the same moment of time, exist and not exist. If, once again, we suppose that Paul, in the words, "Not as though I had already attained, either were already perfect," refers—and a Greek could not have understood him as referring to anything else—to the glory which awaited him at the end of his course; and in the words, "Let us, as many as be perfect, be thus minded," he refers to his moral and spiritual state as a believer in Jesus; all is plain and harmonious. If, on the other hand, we understand him as, in the first case, referring to his moral and spiritual state, it is undeniable that in the same connection he positively affirms and denies the same thing, namely, his moral and spiritual perfection.

So the meaning which the advocates of the doctrine of Imperfection attach to I John i. 8 makes the apostle affirm, in the first instance, that upon specified conditions the blood of Christ does "cleanse from ALL sin," and then, in the same breath, affirm, with equal absoluteness, that if we say that the blood of Christ and the grace of God ever do exert such cleansing power upon ourselves, we are self-deceivers and void of moral integrity. The Word of God is not "a house divided against itself;" and any exposition that makes it such, as this undeniably does, cannot accord with "the mind of the Spirit." A bare reference to the subject of which the apostle is speaking removes all obscurity from his words, and renders all he says self-consistent. He is not treating at all of the doctrine of Christian Perfection as openly taught by his heart friends and associates, such as Polycarp, Barnabas, Clement, and Hermas, and holding them up, as this exposition makes him, as men self-deceived and void of truthfulness; but, as the apostle expressly declares in the next chapter, of ungodly teachers who were seducing the churches. These men, as Jude and Peter also inform us, were going everywhere, and "drawing disciples after them." These men professed to have fellowship with God, and yet led the most scandalous lives, "turning the grace of God into lasciviousness." One of the leading doctrines of these seducers, as is well known, was an absolute denial of the fact and the possibility of sin, as far as the soul is concerned. All evil, or sin, they said, belongs to the body. Hence they denied the Divinity and incarnation of Christ, affirming that it was only in appearance, as an angel visitant, that He dwelt among men. Denying the fact of sin, they denied atonement, and blood and grace cleansing, and the duty of confessing sin. When directed to Christ for salvation, they scornfully replied that they were not sinners, had no sin, and had not sinned, and did not need cleansing or forgiveness. It was to the fatal errors of these seducers that the apostle, as he expressly affirms, refers, when he says, "If we say we have fellowship with Him, and walk in darkness;" "If we say we have no sin;" and "If we say we have not sinned;" both the latter phrases meaning the same thing.

If we understand the apostle in this the most obvious sense, all he says is plain and self-consistent. If we say, as these men did, that we are in fellowship with God, and yet practise iniquity; if we deny our need of grace, and blood-cleansing, and forgiveness, by affirming that "we have no sin," that is, have never sinned at all, we are liars, self-deceivers, void of integrity, and "make God a liar." If, on the other hand, "we walk in the light," trust in atoning grace, and confess the fact that we have sinned, and are consequently sinners, or have sin, which we must have, if we have sinned at all, then we have fellowship one with another, and with the Father and with His Son Jesus Christ; and by the blood of Christ and the grace of God are cleansed and kept clean from "ALL sin" and "ALL unrighteousness." The use that is made of I John i. 8, by the advocates of the dogma of continuous sin in all believers, changes the weapon with which inspiration has furnished us against all who, in any age, may deny the fact of sin, and consequent need of atoning grace, into a Herculean club, with which to knock out the brains of such believers as Polycarp, Clement, Barnabas, Hermas, Ambrose, Athanasius, Chrysostom, Fénélon, Madame Guyon, Wesley, Fletcher, James Brainerd Taylor, Upham, and Finney, by holding them up as self-deceivers, void of truth, and as making God a liar.

4. The monstrous conclusions to which the exposition given to these texts necessarily conducts, is still another reason, and a decisive one, why I rejected the exposition as unscriptural and false. If I adopt the deduction, for example, that Paul, in Rom. vii. 14—25, describes his own experience, and that of every other believer, at his best estate, what must I think of such experience? I must conclude that Paul was, at the best estate attainable in this life, "carnal, sold (a bond slave totally) under sin," making none but miserably abortive efforts to do the good he purposed to do, and avoid the evil which he resolved not to do, and, in every conflict with evil principles and propensities within him, brought into captivity unto the law of sin which was in his members. A wretched man, indeed, is such an individual, and a miserably abortive life is he living. A more monstrously debasing view of the Christian life is inconceivable. Yet this is the brightest ideal of such a life that can be present to any mind that accepts this passage as representing real Christian experience. It is this false ideal, arising from a total misunderstanding of this passage, which has, for centuries, debased and degraded Christian experience and character in our churches. Taking this view of the passage, what must we think of what Paul says of himself in other places? Here he affirms himself unqualifiedly a bond slave sold under sin, and held in "captivity under the law of sin and death." In the beginning of the next chapter he affirms that "the law of the Spirit of life in Christ had made him free" from the identical "law of sin and death" under which he had just before affirmed himself to be in wretched captivity. In the conflict here described Paul is defeated in every instance. At the close of the next chapter he affirms himself, in every condition of existence, to be more than a conqueror through Christ.

So, as we have seen, the exposition given of Phil. iii. 12—15 makes the apostle, in the same connection, affirm and deny, and that unqualifiedly, the same identical thing of himself. Thus Paul is made out to be one of the absurdest and most self-contradictory writers that ever moved a pen. The same facts, as we have seen, characterise the writings of John, if we admit the correctness of the interpretation given of I John i. 8, in support of the doctrine of the continued sinfulness of all believers in this life.

5. This I also found—I remark finally—that when these proof texts were scrutinised in the light of the universally admitted laws of interpretation, it became perfectly evident that not one of those texts had the remotest bearing upon the subject. I will refer, in illustration, to two of the most important among them, the others having been already sufficiently considered. Take, as our first example, the oft-cited passage, Psalm cxix. 96: "I have seen an end of all perfection: but Thy commandment is exceeding broad." On examination, I found that tichlah, the original word here rendered "perfection," is found nowhere else in the Hebrew Scriptures, and that it is derived from a root whose meaning is lost. The analogous word tachleeth, which is derived from the same root as the former, is never, in any instance, employed to represent a moral idea in any form. The only meaning which it has is "boundary," "limits," or "consummation." The real meaning of the passage is, no doubt, rightly given by Professor Perowne: "I have seen an end, a limit, to the whole range or compass of things." "Thy commandment is exceeding broad, has no limits, whilst all other things are bounded by narrow limits." Moral perfection is, in the original Hebrew, represented by another and different word. This passage has no meaning at all approaching to the one so often attributed to it.

In Phil. iii. 12—17, Paul applies the following forms of expression to himself: "Not as though I had already attained, either were already perfect;" and, "Let us therefore, as many as be perfect, be thus minded." In the first case a verb, and in the second an adjective, is employed. In Luke xiii. 32, Heb. ii. 10 and v. 9, the same form of the word which Paul applies, in this first case, to himself, is applied to Christ, and with one exclusive meaning —perfection in glory. In Heb. xii. 23, the same verb, in the participial form, is applied to the spirits of the just in Heaven, "to the spirits of the just made perfect," that is, perfected in glory. In this sense Paul undeniably applies the same verb to himself. What he intends to say is, that when, and not before, his course should be finished, then would "the prize" for which he was running be secured. This course being finished, then, and not till then, would the "crown of righteousness be laid up for him," and he be perfect, that is, perfected in glory, as Christ was when He had "finished the work which the Father gave Him to do." When, on the other hand, Paul says, "Let us, as many as be perfect, be thus minded," he evidently applies the adjective in its usual form, to represent present moral and spiritual perfection. Never were words more recklessly abused than are those of Paul, "Not as though I had already attained, either were already perfect," when made use of to prove the doctrine of the continued sinfulness of believers in this life. So, when these oft-cited proof texts are carefully examined, all even apparent support of this doctrine disappears entirely. No doctrine has, or can have, less support from Scripture or reason than this.

The Baptism of the Holy Ghost.

Such are my reasons for holding and teaching the doctrine of salvation unto the uttermost through faith in Christ. As connected with this doctrine, and as an essential element of it, I also hold and teach the doctrine of the baptism of the Holy Ghost, "an enduement of power from on high" for holy living and work, a supernatural enduement which, by special and specific promise, awaits the faith of every true believer in Jesus; a promise thus expressed by the apostle, "that we (all believers) might receive the promise of the Spirit by faith." To understand this subject we must bear in mind that the Spirit is omnipresent in the world around us, as the Divine energy which directly and immediately determines and controls all material events. In the world of mind, also, He is equally omnipresent, inducing conviction of sin, regenerating souls, and carrying forward the work of redemption in the hearts of all believers. In this sense He is, and ever has been, in and with all believers ever since the fall of man. In this sense His work is not supernatural any more than it is in the world of nature around us. In this sphere of His operations, as has been rightly stated by a celebrated English clergyman, no one can distinguish between any thoughts suggested, or any impressions made upon our feelings, by the Holy Spirit, and those originated by the law of natural association, or induced by the ordinary operations of our own minds. These, then, are the common operations of the Spirit, operations common to all saints in all dispensations; and as inducing these, the Spirit is in and with every believer at all times and under all circumstances. In addition to this subjection to influences, of which no believer ever is or can be destitute, individuals have been subject, in both dispensations, to influences plainly supernatural and Divine, and have been conscious of a personal Presence of a corresponding character. The prophets were all of them conscious of their call to the prophetic office, and, when exercising its gifts, they spoke, and were absolutely conscious of "speaking, as they were moved by the Holy Ghost." In the supernatural sense the Spirit was said to "come upon," to be "put upon," and "given to," individuals. Thus the Lord "took of the Spirit that was upon Moses," and "put Him upon the seventy elders" previously designated. So Elisha said to Elijah, "Let a double portion of thy spirit be upon me." How often do we read of "the Spirit of God coming," and "coming mightily," upon individuals! Thus the Father says of Christ, "I have put My Spirit upon Him;" and Christ says of Himself, The Spirit of the Lord God is upon Me." So, when Christ sent forth His apostles, He first took of the Spirit that was upon Himself, and put Him upon them, not only clothing them, as prophets, with Divine authority to preach the Gospel of the kingdom, but verifying that authority by imparting to them power to "heal the sick, cleanse the lepers, raise the dead, and cast out devils." From that hour onward the Spirit was with and upon the apostles, in a form of which they had had no experience before. In this sense and form the Spirit might not only be given to, but be taken from, individuals. It is unquestionably to this great fact that David referred in the prayer, "Take not Thy Holy Spirit from me." To him the prophetic Spirit had been imparted, and by his sin he had forfeited the gift. Hence his earnest pleading.

Now, though all this was true, while the Spirit was with the Church in the former dispensation, both in His common and in His supernatural or prophetic functions, and in both forms was with and in the apostles prior to the Pentecost, yet He has, in the present dispensation, a mission on which He was never sent until after "Jesus was glorified." On this subject the testimony of inspiration is specific and absolute. John vii. 39: "But this He spake of the Spirit, Which they that believe on Him should receive: for the Holy Ghost was not yet given because Jesus was not yet glorified." Two great truths are, here absolutely revealed. The first is, that this gift of the Holy Ghost awaits the faith of every believer. We are not told that apostles, or privileged saints, but "he that believeth on Me," shall have the experience described. The second truth is this: The functions of the Spirit in all to whom He is now given, are of a higher order than He had ever before performed, even in any prophet of God. Unless this were true, we surely should not be told that the Holy Ghost, as now to be received, had never before been given, and that because "Jesus was not yet glorified." Then the results represented by the "outflow of rivers of living water" had never before been experienced by prophet, apostle, or saint of God.

This, then, is the doctrine of the Spirit which I now hold and teach: that while it is the privilege and duty of every believer to "receive the Holy Ghost," He exercises, in all who receive Him, functions of a higher order than He ever exercised in any apostle, prophet, or saint of God, prior to the Pentecost. This is the exact truth set forth by Peter on that occasion. The enduement of power then received by himself and his associates was, as he affirms, a fulfilment of the promise given by Joel. This promise, as he also affirmed, awaited the faith of all present who would repent and believe in Christ, and pertains also "to all that are afar off even as many as the Lord our God shall call," that is, "call to be saints." No utterances can, by any possibility, be more specific and universal in their application. All who "receive the promise of the Spirit" do not, and never did, as the apostle expressly teaches in I Cor. xii., receive the gift of healing or of speaking with tongues but all do receive ALL that is meant by the words, "And they were ALL filled with the Holy Ghost," and out of the belly of every such recipient "flow rivers of living water." Such has been, now is, and ever will be, the experience of all who receive the Holy Ghost, after they have believed. This gift of the Holy Ghost as "the Comforter," "the promise of the Father," "the enduement of power from on high," is, our Saviour expressly informs us, given upon the condition of prior "love to Him, and obedience to His commandments." "If ye love Me, keep My commandments; and I will pray the Father for you, and He shall give you another Comforter, that He may abide with you for ever" (John xiv. 15, 16). So Peter, Acts v. 32, affirms that "God gives the Spirit to those who OBEY Him." Paul, also, informs us that believers "receive the promise of the Spirit by faith" (Gal. iii. 13, 14). Such was the order in which the gift of the Spirit was received after the Pentecost, as is manifest in the experience of believers in Samaria, upon none of whom did the Spirit fall until after Peter and John had prayed for them and laid their hands upon them. Paul received this baptism three days after his conversion, as we read in Acts ix. 9, 17: "And he (Saul) was three days without sight, and neither did eat nor drink." "And Ananias went his way, and entered into the house; and putting his hands on him said, Brother Saul, the Lord, even Jesus, that appeared unto thee in the way as thou camest, bath sent me, that thou mightest receive thy sight, and be filled with the Holy Ghost." So, when Paul met certain disciples at Ephesus, he put this question to them, "Have ye received the Holy Ghost since ye believed?" This question absolutely implies that, in the judgment of Paul, the facts of regeneration and faith in Christ do not imply that the subject has yet "received the promise of the Father," and that all who have "received the promise of the Spirit" are conscious of the fact. So the same apostle, Eph. i. 13, reveals the order in which the Spirit is given: "In Whom ye also trusted, after that ye heard the word of truth, the Gospel of your salvation: in Whom also after that ye believed, ye were sealed with the Holy Spirit of promise."

The results, in experience, of receiving "the promise of the Spirit" are set before us in the Scriptures in such language as the following: "The sun shall no more be thy light by day, neither for brightness shall the moon give light unto thee: but the Lord shall be unto thee an everlasting light, and thy God thy glory. Thy sun shall no more go down, neither shall thy moon withdraw itself: for the Lord shall be thine everlasting light, and the days of thy mourning shall be ended;" "At that day he that is feeble among them shall be as David, and the house of David as God, as the angel of the Lord before Him;" "And on My servants, and on My handmaidens, will I pour out in those days of My Spirit; and they shall prophesy;" "Out of his belly shall flow rivers of living water;" "At that day ye shall know that I am in My Father, and ye in Me, and I in you;" "He shall lead you into all truth;" "He shall receive of Mine, and shall show it unto you;" "Christ in you the hope of glory;" "In Whom ye also are builded for an habitation of God through the Spirit;" "And we all, beholding with open face as in a glass the glory of the Lord, are changed into the same image from glory to glory, even as by the Spirit of the Lord;" "That ye may comprehend the length, and breadth, and depth, and height, and know the love of Christ which passeth knowledge, that ye might be filled with all the fulness of God." Nothing is, or can be, more distinctly and specifically revealed in Scripture than is this doctrine of the baptism of the Holy Ghost, as we hold and teach it; and because it is thus revealed, we do hold and teach it.

Objections to this Doctrine.

Objections to this doctrine assume two forms. It is affirmed, in the first place, that the baptism received at the Pentecost was wholly a miraculous enduement, and, with the age of miracles, has passed away. The error involved in this assumption is so obvious, that the only real marvel about it is, that it should ever have had place for a moment in Christian thought. Was a short period of miracles, such as the speaking with tongues, "the glory which was to follow the sufferings of Christ," the glory about which "the prophets inquired and searched diligently," and "into which the angels desired to look"? Was it only for a little period that there was to be an "outflow of rivers of living water" from the inner being of believers, and were these rivers all to dry up into the dull and turbid rivulets which now appear in Christian experience? Was it for a little period only that "the redeemed of the Lord were to return, and come with singing unto Zion, with everlasting joy upon their heads;" and were these rejoicings then to be superseded by the present dirge-like songs, "Where is the blessedness I knew, when first I saw the Lord," &c.? Was it for a little while that believers were to "wait on the Lord, and renew their strength, mount up on wings as eagles, run and not be weary, and walk add not faint;" and then, for subsequent ages, were they to find that "Their souls can neither fly nor go, to teach eternal joys"? But one reason can be assigned for the present weakness and gloom that rest upon the churches, and that is the fact, that "the promise of the Spirit," the revealed glory of the present dispensation, has been for centuries "a forgotten truth." Every prediction and passage pertaining to the Pentecostal promise of the Spirit is the blood-bought inheritance of every believer to the end of time. We might as truly say that the promise, "Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ, and thou shalt be saved," passed away with the age of miracles, granting that that age has passed away, as affirm that the words of Christ, "He that believeth on Me, as the Scripture hath said, out of his belly shall flow rivers of living water," have thus passed away. So "the promise of the Spirit" is everywhere and expressly given to believers as such, and has but one condition, our faith.

But the second, the most common and important, objection is this: The baptism of the Holy Ghost, as promised to believers, is now universally given in regeneration, and never after we have believed; and what is now to be sought for and expected is a mere increase of what has been already received. One fact bearing fundamentally upon this question is this: Paul, about thirty years after the Pentecost, did not think so, but far otherwise. Suppose that he had held and taught the doctrine that in regeneration every believer does in fact receive the baptism of the Holy Ghost, would he, in that case, have put the question to the believers whom he met at Ephesus, "Have ye received the Holy Ghost SINCE ye believed?" The following deductions are absolutely verified by the facts before us: that these believers had been subjects of regenerating grace, and had not then "received the Holy Ghost;" that Paul was right in the belief that the fact of regeneration does not imply that the subject has yet "received the Holy Ghost;" and, when received, the recipient is conscious of the fact, so that every believer can say whether he has received it or not; and that those who do receive the baptism "receive the promise of the Spirit by faith." The individual who will still hold on to the dogma under consideration in the presence of such facts, has located himself beyond the reach of evidence. But did not Christ say to His disciples, "He (the Comforter) is with you," and (as Alford renders the passage) "is in you"? Certainly He did. But did He not also say, "If I go not away, the Comforter will not come unto you;" and did He not subsequently say, "Ye shall be baptized with the Holy Ghost not many days hence"? But are not the bodies of all believers affirmed to be "the temples of the Holy Ghost"? True, we answer. But while Paul affirmed this fact, we have absolute evidence that he did not regard regeneration as proof that the subject had yet "received the Holy Ghost." So the ancient temple was "the temple of the Holy Ghost" as really and truly before as after it was filled with the Divine glory. Every believer is "builded FOR an habitation of God through the Spirit;" and is consequently "the temple of the living God." He reasons most illogically, and in express contradiction to Paul and the other apostles, who argues from this fact that such believer has been "baptized," and "filled with the Holy Ghost." To be a temple of the Holy Ghost is one thing, and every believer is such a temple. To be "baptized with the Holy Ghost" is quite another thing, and is true of those saints only who "have received the Holy Ghost since they believed." While Paul affirms that each and every believer is a "temple of the Holy Ghost," he in the same Epistle divides believers into two classes—"the spiritual," and those who are "not spiritual, but yet carnal, babes in Christ."

No doctrine can be less Scriptural, or more manifestly unscriptural, than is this, that all believers are in this dispensation baptized with the Holy Ghost at the time of their conversion. If we compare the actual state of our converts with the revealed results of "the baptism of the Holy Ghost," we shall perceive at once that no more absurd notion ever whirled in a human brain, than the idea that these converts, or even one in a million of them, have received this baptism. Is there the outflow from their inner being of "RIVERS of living water"? Do they "KNOW that Christ is in the Father, as they in Him, and He in them"? Are they "beholding with open face as in a glass the glory of the Lord, and being changed into the same image from glory to glory, even as by the Spirit of the Lord"? Has God "made known to all of these the riches of the glory of this mystery among the Gentiles, which is Christ in you the hope of glory"? These are the revealed experiences of all who have received this baptism. We should stultify ourselves, if we should say that these converts are the subjects of such experiences. Yet, in the presence of all these palpable facts, men, and among them "the wise and prudent," will affirm that every true convert has received, and did at his conversion receive, the Pentecostal baptism of the Holy Ghost, and is experiencing "the glory which followed the sufferings of Christ," the glory about which "the prophets inquired and searched diligently," and "into which angels desire to look." Can this be said of every such convert, "The Lord is thine everlasting light, and the days of thy mourning are ended"? Are they "going from strength to strength, mounting up on wings as eagles, running without weariness, and walking and not fainting," and all this with "EVERLASTING joy upon their heads"? All these, we repeat, are the revealed results in the experience of all who "wait the promise of the Father," and "receive the Holy Ghost." Can all this be said of these converts, or of one in a thousand of them? Whence, then, these dirge-songs so common, if not universal, among them?

To this it is replied, that all real converts are baptized, but not filled, with the Holy Ghost. To this we answer, that, according to the express revelations of the New Testament, the terms, "Baptized with the Holy Ghost," "The Holy Ghost is come upon you," and "filled with the Holy Ghost," mean the same thing, and are used interchangeably. See, for example, Acts i. 5, 8, and ii. 4. None are "baptized with the Holy Ghost," who are not "filled with the Spirit," and consequently who have not in experience all the revealed results of such filling. We must conclude, that it is "after they have believed, that believers are sealed with the Holy Spirit of Promise," or admit that in revealing the results of the baptism under consideration, the Scriptures employ the most absurd and extravagant language to be found in any book that ever was written.

Such are my "reasons for the hope that is in me," and for the form of faith which I hold and teach; reasons upon which I rest "with full assurance of understanding," "with full assurance of faith," and "full assurance of hope;" and "I would to God" that every believer in Jesus in the wide world were, in this faith and hope, not only "almost," but "altogether such as I am." Then truly would their "fellowship be with the Father, and with His Son Jesus Christ;" and then also would "their joy be full."

CHAPTER XV.

NEEDFUL CORRECTIONS AND EXPLANATIONS,

AND ANSWERS TO OBJECTIONS.

IT is now quite forty-six years since, in connection with my late brother in Christ, Finney, I first presented to the public in printed form my views of the doctrine of Salvation to the Uttermost, together with my reasons for my belief in that doctrine. Simultaneously with my own presentation, and in full accordance with it, brother Finney presented his views upon the same subject, together with his reasons for holding them. The reasons which lie at the basis of our faith and hope I have given in the preceding pages, and they are embodied in the following propositions. I. The revealed purpose of the incarnation, life, atonement, resurrection, and mediation of Christ, together with the object of the revealed mission of the Holy Spirit, is not merely the pardon of sin, but salvation, full and complete, from its present dominion to "redeem us from ALL iniquity;" to "take away our sins;" "destroy the works of the devil;" to "make an END of sins, and bring in everlasting righteousness." 2. Christ stands distinctly and specifically revealed before us in the Word of God, as able to "sanctify us WHOLLY," and "save to the UTTERMOST them that come unto God by Him." 3. He stands revealed, also, as having made specific provisions for our complete and entire and present sanctification. 4. On the condition that He be "inquired of by us to do it forus," He has bound Himself by absolute promise, and that in multitudinous forms and instances, to "sanctify us WHOLLY, and preserve our WHOLE spirit and soul and body BLAMELESS unto His coming." 5. Not as a demand of the law of duty, but upon the express ground of these provisions and promises, we are admonished and commanded to "cleanse ourselves from all pollutions of flesh and spirit, PERFECTING holiness in the fear of God." 6. That believers may "stand perfect and complete in ALL the will of God," is the specific object of the inspired prayers of Christ, His apostles, and other saints of God; prayers recorded under the immediate inspiration of the Holy Ghost in the New Testament. That we have correctly set forth what the Scriptures distinctly and specifically reveal on each of the topics above presented has never been denied or called in question; from which fact I may safely conclude that we have correctly interpreted the mind of the Spirit on all those topics.

The inference which we based upon all these universally admitted revelations of the Word of God is this: We are, in view of these specifically revealed truths and facts, as fully authorised to inquire of God to sanctify us wholly, expecting that He will thus sanctify us, as we are to inquire of Him for the pardon of our sins, expecting to receive that blessing. Grace just as full, and free, and available to our faith, is revealed for the former as for the latter blessing. Each, equally with the other, and for the same identical reasons, is the object of faith and hope; and he who professes that he has been "sanctified wholly," makes a profession no more incredible than he does who professes to have received the pardon of his sins. In each case alike the profession is to be judged by the fruits attending it.

Such is the doctrine as, from the beginning, we have held and taught it, and such are our reasons for holding and teaching the doctrine. The terms by which we designated it were those by which it had been presented since the times of Wesley and Fletcher, namely, Christian Perfection, Entire Sanctification, and Full Salvation. No doctrine, as we judge, can be more clearly and distinctly stated, together with the reasons for holding it. Nor have I ever heard a complaint from any opponent that we have misrepresented his views, or evaded the full force of his arguments and objections. Whenever any important articles appeared against our views, we uniformly gave them in full to our readers through the columns of The Oberlin Evangelist, and then gave our reply. As we treated the subject throughout with unquestioned Christian candour, I may say with truth that we were entitled to corresponding treatment from our opponents. If ever there was a question which should be treated with the utmost candour and care, and with a most careful and candid appeal "to the law and to the testimony," it is that which pertains to the possibilities of faith in the sphere of personal holiness in this life. It should be to no one a matter of self-congratulation, but of the deepest humiliation, to confess, that while he is approached by such motives of infinite weight, he is not as holy as he is required to be. How unbecoming it was in a very celebrated minister of the Gospel to publish under his own name "that if the public should hear that Mr. —— was entirely sanctified, they might expect to find a notice of his death in the next issue of The Times!" That which is the revealed object of Christ's death, of all the provisions and promises of grace, and also of inspired prayer, we should earnestly desire to find true, and should most deeply regret to find not true in our own experience.

The circumstances in which our views were presented, together with the relations of brother Finney and myself to the churches and to the public generally at the time, fixed very general attention upon the subject, and rendered it, to a greater extent than often occurs, a theme of discussion and criticism on the part of the pulpit and the religious press. It may be a matter of interest and profit with the reader to look over the past forty-six years, and contemplate the character of these criticisms and discussions. I omit now all reference to the bitter denunciations and exclusions from Christian fellowship to which we were subject, and refer only to the manner and form of the multitudinous criticisms and replies which have appeared to what we, and others holding kindred sentiments with us, have written.

My first statement upon this subject is this: In no such reply or criticism has there ever, during all these years, appeared a single denial of the truth of one of the six propositions above set forth. In all such replies, on the other hand, the truth of these propositions has been assumed as undeniable. Nor has there ever been a denial of our deduction from these propositions, in the form in which we presented it. Our argument, summarily stated, is this Whatever God has specifically revealed Himself as able to do for us, as having provided for us, and whatever He has specifically promised to confer upon us, on the condition that He is inquired of by us to do it for us, and whatever stands revealed in the Bible as a specific object of prayer, we are privileged and bound to inquire of God to do this specific thing for us, and that with full assurance of faith and hope that we shall receive the specific blessing which we seek. In the Scriptures of truth Christ stands distinctly revealed as "ABLE to save us to the UTTERMOST," as having made specific provisions for our full and complete "redemption from ALL iniquity," and for our perfect and complete moral and spiritual purification. Furthermore, He has distinctly, specifically, and absolutely promised, on the condition that "He be inquired of to do it for" us, to "save us to the uttermost," to "sanctify us wholly," and "preserve our WHOLE spirit and soul and body BLAMELESS" unto His coming. At the same time, salvation in this specific form is the object of the ordained prayer for the Church universal in all time, of the intercessory prayer of our Saviour, and of the inspired prayers of His apostles and of the saints of God. Our deduction from these admitted premises is this: Sanctification complete and entire is the object of rational faith and prayer and hope. Such hope rests upon the same identical foundation as that of pardon. No other basis exists for the hope of pardon than this,—that Christ is distinctly revealed as "having power on earth to forgive sin," that He has made and revealed provisions for its forgiveness; has, upon revealed conditions, promised the blessing; and that it is revealed in Scripture as a specific object of prayer. Both blessings, perfect justification and entire sanctification, stand distinctly revealed in the Word of God, as available on the same condition, and as, for the same identical reasons, objects of faith and expectation, and the individual who professes to have received the one blessing makes a no more incredible profession than he does who professes to have received the other. To the argument in this form, the only form in which we ever presented it, no individual has ever yet, to my knowledge, even professedly replied. A late and very eminent Professor in the theological department of Princeton College, soon after my work on Christian Perfection appeared, made to his class the following statement, which I give as reported to me by a member of that class: "A new work, on the subject of Christian Perfection, has just appeared from the pen of the President of Oberlin College. That, young gentlemen, is a very difficult book to answer. I advise you all to give it a careful reading." This was all that the Professor was known to have said upon the subject. He was too profound a Biblical scholar to deny any one of the premises laid down, and was possessed of too much Christian candour to impeach the validity of the deduction drawn from those premises.

All Christian thinkers did not manifest the same wisdom as this Professor, while their candour is left to the judgment of the reader. Not a few, among whom were the leading editors of the Christian press, and the most influential ministers of the Gospel, entered the arena of controversy, and professed to reply to our arguments. But what, without exception, was the character of these replies? They universally admitted the validity of our premises, and then professedly invalidated our deduction, by grossly and palpably misstating it.

Our reasoning, as they formally stated it, was this: Specific provisions and promises of grace for the entire sanctification of believers in this life are clearly and positively revealed in the Scriptures; and therefore believers are and will be thus sanctified. We replied that we did not thus reason, and never had done so; that from the revealed provisions and promises of grace we reasoned, not to what believers do, but to what they may and ought to attain. From the fact that provisions and promises of grace are clearly revealed for the pardon of sin, we inferred that justification is, not an actually attained, but an attainable blessing, and that men are under obligations infinite to avail themselves of the privilege. It is upon this exclusive basis that the offer of pardon is presented to the race. So, the universally admitted fact, that provisions and promises of grace are given for the entire sanctification of believers in this life, reveals this, not as an attained, but as an attainable state, to which all believers are privileged and bound to attain. Once and again we corrected such misstatements, stated and restated the argument in its true form, and entreated our opponents to meet the argument as we had stated it. This, as I have affirmed, they have never in a single instance even attempted to do. From the fact that for at least forty-six years the opponents of this doctrine have been distinctly looking at this argument, and have never, in a single instance, even attempted an answer to it as presented, I may safely conclude that, even in their judgment, the argument is unassailable, and that the doctrine itself is among the eternal verities that "cannot be shaken."

Another fact that I deem it my duty to state in this connection is this: In no instance that I have known have our doctrine and arguments been stated as they are, and then met with refutation or disproof.

Let us for a moment consider the doctrine itself. Take the terms "sin," on the one hand, and "holiness," on the other. "Sin" represents everything in and about a creature which God prohibits. "Holiness" represents a "fulfilment in the creature of the righteousness of the law;" the being and doing ALL that God requires; or "standing perfect and complete in ALL the will of God." "Entire Sanctification," or "Christian Perfection," represents "salvation to the uttermost" from sin in all its forms, and deliverance full and complete from those internal dispositions, tendencies, and habits, by which creatures are rendered "carnal, sold under sin," on the one hand, and a renewal into the image of Christ, so that by grace the creature does, in fact, "perfect holiness in the fear of God." How does it become Christian editors and Christian theologians to oppose such a doctrine, if they choose to do so? First of all, they should present the doctrine, together with the arguments by which it is sustained, just as they are held and presented by their advocates, and should represent the doctrine by the identical terms, and none other than those, which those advocates have adopted. Any departure from this principle implies the employment of weapons which God prohibits, and reacts with fearful results upon the wrong-doers, and all who are misled by their sophistries. One of the wisest utterances of Coleridge is to this effect, that whenever an individual opposes a given doctrine by first misrepresenting it, he does not oppose the doctrine itself but a spectre of his own creation, and thereby reveals his own want of internal integrity.

How has the doctrine under consideration been assailed by its opponents? By a total misrepresentation, in the first place, as we have already shown, of our arguments. Then it has, with hardly a seeming exception, been represented by odious misnomers, which appeal to no other principle than the odium theologicum in the reader's mind, on the one hand, and induces utter misapprehensions of the doctrine itself on the other. The doctrine has been invariably held up as the doctrine of Sinlessness or Perfectionism. The use of the first term designated has been, ever since the time of Wesley, in fact and form, repudiated by the advocates of the doctrine, and that for the avowed reason that it represents what is possible only to God, namely, not only total freedom from sin, but from the possibility of sinning, or being even tempted to sin. Now what excuse can any intelligent man offer for employing such a term to represent the doctrine of Christian Perfection; a doctrine which affirms, and ever has affirmed, the liability of all believers to temptation, and to sin when tempted, and the impossibility of their being kept at all but "by the power of God through faith"? What is Perfectionism? Long before brother Finney or myself thought seriously upon the subject, a small sect arose in the United States, a sect never numbering over five or six hundred individuals, a sect which adopted sentiments and practices which rendered it the object of the just reprobation of the Church and the world. This sect openly, for example, repudiated the Bible, the revealed law of God, the Sabbath, and all the Christian ordinances, together with that of marriage. They claimed perfection on the express ground that, being by one act of faith for ever freed from all law and all obligation of every kind, it was absolutely impossible that they should sin, do what they would. The leaders of the sect manufactured the terms "Perfectionist" and "Perfectionism," terms unknown before, and appropriated them to represent their sect and their doctrines. These terms are as exclusively technical as are "Mormon" and "Mormonism." In the first public presentation I ever made of our doctrine, I drew a distinct and impressive contrast between that doctrine and Perfectionism, affirming at the same time, that if any one would prove any form of identity between them, or any tendency in the former towards the latter, I would renounce my views for ever.

Without any attempt to show that any such identity or tendency does exist, and in the presence of the most absolute proof to the contrary, the doctrine of Christian Perfection has, from the beginning to the present time, on both sides of the Atlantic, been held up and opposed as the doctrine of Sinlessness or Perfectionism, and never with a true presentation of its real characteristics, and under the only names by which it can be honestly designated. All who oppose error, and advocate truth, on such principles, do themselves, and induce others to, "hold the truth in unrighteousness." In the use of such weapons, whether truth or error is advocated or opposed, the spirit induced is exclusively unchristian. It is thus that many individuals have brought a lasting blight upon their own spirits, and upon believers around them. Let any individual candidly compare the two systems, and then frame a shadow of an excuse for an attempt to identify the two, or for opposing or discussing the doctrine of Christian Perfection under the name "Perfectionism." When will Christian men learn to fight the battles of the Lord with Christian weapons and in a Christian spirit, and not with Satanic enginery, and "as if the devil was in them"? Doctrinal discussion, religious controversy, and "earnest contention for the faith once delivered to the saints," have place in the sphere of Christian duty. In such service, however, nothing but perfect candour, truthful statements of facts and arguments, and the total absence of all use of false imputations and opprobrious names and terms, should have place.

One of the most common objections to our teachings has been, that in them the true standard of Divine requirement is perilously lowered and distorted. If such a charge can be sustained, such teachings surely ought to be repudiated with utter abhorrence and reprobation. But what are the real facts of the case? Sanctification, in all forms and degrees, we must bear in mind, is exclusively the work, not of the creature, but of God, a work wrought in us by the Eternal Spirit, on the condition that "God be inquired of by us to do it for us." Entire sanctification implies "salvation to the uttermost" from sin in all its forms as God sees it, on the one hand, and perfect moral purity as He apprehends and requires it, on the other. "God," we read, "hath chosen us in Him before the foundation of the world;" that is, hath chosen that all who are in Christ, or are united to Him by faith, should "be holy and without blame before Him (in His sight) in love." When Christ presents us to Himself "without spot, or wrinkle, or any such thing, but as holy and without blemish" in His pure eyes, then, and only then, are we entirely sanctified. This is our avowed standard. Wherein does it differ from God's standard? The revealed evidence that we are conformed to that standard is "the witness of the Spirit," on the one hand, and the conscious fact, on the other, "that the blood of Christ, Who through the Eternal Spirit offered Himself without spot unto God, bath purged our conscience from dead works to serve the living God." The Spirit of God, through the apostle John, affirms that "when our heart (conscience) does not condemn us, we keep His commandments and do those things that are pleasing in His sight;" and, through Paul, that "the end of the commandment (the sum of all that God requires of us) is charity out of a pure heart, and of a good conscience, and of faith unfeigned." The individual who can say with Paul, as Alford has rightly rendered his words, "I know nothing against myself;" "Whom I serve with a pure conscience;" "Our rejoicing is this, the testimony of our conscience, that in simplicity and godly sincerity, not with fleshly wisdom, but by the grace of God, we have had our conversation in the world;" "As of sincerity, but as of God, in the sight of God speak we in Christ;" and, "Ye are witnesses, and God also, how holily, and justly, and unblamably, we behaved ourselves among you that believe;" the individual who, under the inspiration of the Spirit of God, can truly say all this of himself, has undeniably all the evidence that can be asked of the fact of his entire sanctification in God's sight.

In answer to all this, it is affirmed, that God now requires of us, not merely what, at the present moment, is possible to us with our powers dwarfed by sin, but what would be possible had we never sinned at all, which is undeniably impossible. "Impossible with men," we reply, "but not with God." If God requires us to serve Him with any degree of strength, be it superhuman or angelic, He has promised to gird us with everlasting strength to do what He does require of us. How much wiser was a Southern coloured preacher than is such an objector! "If," said the preacher, "God should command me to leap droo a wall fifteen feet high, and ten feet thick, I would jump against de wall, case dat would be my dooty, and I would trust God to carry droo de wall, and He would do it." "If God should command me to fly," said Mr. Wesley, "I would trust Him for wings." Such utterances have Divine wisdom in them.

But where did the idea originate, that God requires of us, not what is now possible to us through grace, but what would be possible, had we never sinned? Nowhere, we answer, but in the bewildered brain of the objector. Not an intimation of any such standard as this can be found in the Bible. "All," we are there absolutely assured, that the law requires of us is "love," and "every one that loveth," we are also assured, "hath fulfilled the law," done all that the law requires of him. "Where there is a willing mind," we further read, "it is accepted according to that a man hath, and not according to that he hath not." According to Christ, the law addresses every man thus: "Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy mind, and with all thy strength," that is, with ALL the heart, soul, mind, and strength of which you are actually possessed. This is God's revealed standard, and he who sets up any other than this "makes void the law of God by human traditions." The individual who sets up the standard under consideration, any standard of obedience which is impracticable, even through proffered grace, is, in fact, living in known and allowed sin, never even aiming to conform to the standard which he has set before his own mind as Divinely obligatory. No one in his senses ever even attempted to love, not with the strength which he has, but with that which he would have, had he never sinned, or with any degree of unknown and unknowable strength.

There are two standards of the moral and religious life which individuals may have before their minds, the theoretical and the practical, the former being that to which they entertain no expectation of reaching at all, and the latter that by which they really expect to live. All believers who entertain the belief that every Christian, at his best estate, does, and will, sin "daily in thought, word, and deed," has continuously before his mind these two standards, and the one of these will be found to be located far above, and the other as far below, the possibilities of faith in this life, while in the case of all whose sincere aim is to "stand perfect and complete in all the will of God," these two standards are one and identical. In the case of these two classes of individuals, you will find the following very important facts to be strictly true. While the theoretical standard of the former may, in the sense explained, be higher than is that of the latter, the reverse is most manifestly true of their practical standards. In the judgment of all observers, the visible lives of the latter move upon a level far higher than do those of the former. I may here state an illustrative fact. I shall do it, myself being the subject, at the risk of the charge of self-glorification. God knows that my real and exclusive motive is an exemplification of the power of His grace. When a council was called to instal me as pastor of the Congregational church in Jackson, in the State of Michigan, the General Conference of the same denomination of the same State held its Annual Session at the same time and place. The coincidence was intentional on the part of the church who had called me to be their pastor, the question being deemed a very material one, whether an individual known to all the world as holding and teaching the doctrine I did, should be installed over one of the leading churches of that State. The question was accordingly fully discussed before the two bodies when in united session. During the discussion, a Mr. Aiken, a ministerial fraternal delegate from the State of Maine, rose and spoke to just this effect: "On my way here I spent some time with my uncle, Dr. Aiken, pastor of the First Presbyterian church in Cleveland, Ohio. During our conversation, my uncle made to me the following statements: 'During the residence of President Mahan in this city, I have had, on account of his peculiar circumstances, a full opportunity to look into the interior of his mind, to know his character as it is. Never in my life before have I met with an individual whose moral and religious standard is as high as is that of President Mahan, and never have I met with a man whose whole life is in such full and complete conformity to such a standard. His life is in visible conformity to the principles which he holds and teaches.' Such," continued Mr. Aiken, "was the testimony of my uncle, whose reputation you all know, concerning this man. I therefore earnestly advise the Council to instal him as pastor over this church, and this Conference to welcome him as one of your members;" which was accordingly done. Were such fact peculiar to myself, I should not have put upon record the above statements. I do so now, because there are many ten thousands of individuals whose visible lives thus "commend them to every man's conscience in the sight of God;" and that because their theoretical and practical standard of the moral and Christian life is one and identical. On the other hand, go the world over, and you will find this to be universally true, that where believers locate the theoretical far above, they locate the practical standard of the moral and Christian life as far below, the acknowledged possibilities of faith. For the reason that they have thus separated the theoretical and practical standard, they do not seriously aim to rise to the level of admitted possibility.

Another characteristic which distinguishes the two classes under consideration the one from the other, is this: what the class whose theoretical and practical standard is one and identical are quick to recognise in themselves and others as sin, and aggravated forms of sin, the class who have two separate standards, for the most part, take very little account of, or none at all. The least risings of pride, anger, or covetousness, in the heart of any individual of the first class, will be instantly recognised as sin, and will be promptly confessed as such to God, and to all individuals cognisant of the facts; while individuals of the second class scarcely ever take any account of such uprisings. Late one evening in London, for example, a very influential minister, who sympathised with my teachings, called upon me. He had just come from a great missionary meeting presided over by one of the most celebrated ministers in the kingdom. "We had a glorious time," remarked my visitor. "Had there been," he added, "any cause of general angry excitement present, however, there was nothing there to prevent a furious and universal outburst of the same. One of the leading individuals near me, who manifested the deepest interest in the proceedings, and who frequently could hardly restrain open applause, became furiously angry, and manifested his wrath to many around him, simply because some one on coming in had left open the door, and thus let in some cold air upon the congregation." I venture to affirm as an undoubted fact, that that man never regarded, or confessed to God or man, such manifestation as sin. Nor, had the whole congregation become furiously angry from some generally exciting cause, would the fact have been thought of or confessed by the mass present as sin. Had my friend, whose theoretical and practical standard was known to be identical, unfortunately manifested the same spirit, the fact would have been everywhere talked about, and probably reported in certain religious papers to the discredit of his principles. Just such facts, and for the reasons under consideration, everywhere obtain.

Equally distinguished and peculiar are these two classes, I remark once more, in the confession of sin. Those whose theoretical and practical standard is one and identical, seldom confess sin in general, but are prompt to confess to God and man sins in specific forms, whenever they are committed "in thought, word, or deed;" and of all persons they are quickest to recognise such facts when they do occur in experience. Those of the other class, on the other hand, are very loud and platitudinous in their confessions of sin in general, and in the forms believed to be common in the churches, and almost never confess specific sins, such as anger, pride, evil-speaking, and covetousness. As far as such sins are concerned, the most common and most aggravated in the sight of God, they are seldom or never confessed among this class, and they are uniformly denied or justified when the subjects are expostulated with for such manifestations. In the sphere of specific sins, the class of believers under consideration practically profess entire sanctification. If there is anything that is "a smoke in the nose" of the Most High, it is, in my judgment, the endlessly multiplied confessions of sin which are everywhere coming up before God, confessions made without remorse, shame, or blushing, and with no serious intention of amendment; and all this because those who make such confessions expect to sin, and have before their minds a practical standard of the moral and religious life which, instead of making manifest the sins of the daily life, veils the same from the mental vision. To such confessions God's reply is, "Be ye not mockers, lest your bands be made strong." Never, reader, as you fear the frown and value the favour of your God, "acknowledge your transgressions" but when "your sin is ever before you," when your heart is deeply humbled within you, and when its cry is, "Wash me throughly from mine iniquity, and cleanse me from my sin;" "Create in me a clean heart, O God, and renew a right spirit within me;" "Purge me with hyssop, and I shall be clean; wash me, and I shall be whiter than snow." It is with unspeakable horror that I often listen to the cold and heartless confessions of sin, "that abominable thing which God hates," and which should never defile the soul of one of His saints; confessions so often made in the sanctuary, the prayer-meeting, and at the family altar. To such confessions God may well reply, "O, do not this abominable thing which I hate;" "It is a fearful thing, and a bitter, to sin against God." But what an infinite insult it is, after the deed has been committed, to throw into the face of an offended God a cold and heartless confession of the abomination! Here is a chief source of the hardness of heart and remorselessness so common in our churches.

One of the chief sources of the objections and arguments against the doctrine of Entire Sanctification arises from fundamental misapprehensions of the nature of such state, and the imagined results which would arise from its attainment. How often do we hear it said, that if a believer were entirely sanctified, he would no more be subject to temptation to sin in any form! Individuals who adduce such an objection forget that if their conclusion is valid, Christ was in all points a sinner like as we are, because "He was TEMPTED in all points like as we are." The fact that Christ was thus tempted, and "yet without sin," absolutely implies that mere temptation to sin is not sin in any one. Temptation yielded to is sin. "When lust is conceived" (cherished and yielded to), "it bringeth forth sin." Temptation promptly resisted and overcome implies the purest and brightest virtues known in the universe of God. "To him that overcometh will I grant to sit with Me in My throne, even as I overcame, and am set down with My Father in His throne." "Blessed is he that ENDURETH (resists and overcomes) temptation; for when he has been tried, he shall receive a crown of life." Let me state a case of actual occurrence. An individual in the United States was bitten by a rabid animal, and knew that he must die of the consequent malady. Before the paroxysm came upon him, he determined that by the grace of God he would hold all violent feelings and desires in perfect subjection, and by grace fortified himself for the approaching conflict. When the paroxysms did come—and none could suffer more than he did—he held out even unto death, never in a single instance, or for a single moment, yielding to the maddening desires that burned within him. In the midst of his most terrible paroxysms, he would call for his infant child, take it in his arms, look into its face, kiss it, and then, with his blessing, give it back to its mother. So he continued, until "he fell asleep." He was terribly tempted and tried. Do you think, reader, that God imputed as sin to that man those rabid desires which were burning out his life; desires which, by Divine grace, were held in perfect subjection even unto death? No: God, and angels, and glorified spirits, bent with wondering admiration over the spectacle, and hailed the freed spirit as one of heaven's noblest conquerors. Among those who stand nearest the throne are those who "were stoned, were sawn asunder, were TEMPTED, were slain with the sword." Those who "wash their garments, and make them white in the blood of the Lamb," are not, any more than He was, free from temptation, but, in every trial of fire, they are "more than conquerors through Him that loved them." When Christ said, "The prince of this world cometh, and hath nothing in Me," He did not mean that Satan could present no temptation to His mind, but this, "He can present no form or degree of temptation which shall find anything but a repellent response in Me." "The pure in heart," who do not "cast away their confidence," will be tried, will be tempted, as Christ was; but, as He was not, so they will never be, anything less than "more than conquerors" through Him. Temptation may enter, but sin never can find anything responsive to itself in a pure heart.

But again it is urged, that if we were entirely sanctified, we should be in a state in which it would be impossible for us to sin. Whence, we may well ask, did such an idea enter the brain of any believer? Our first parents, and "angels who kept not their first estate," were once perfectly pure, or entirely sanctified, and yet they were tempted and fell. So, when we have attained to a similar state, we are subject to the same liabilities, and, without watchfulness and prayer on our part, "as the serpent beguiled Eve through his subtilty, so our minds will be corrupted from the simplicity (perfect purity) that is in Christ."

The following fact will illustrate my apprehension of the real difference between a partially and a perfectly sanctified believer in the respect now under consideration. A great commander was engaged in besieging a strongly fortified city. After a while, he concentrated his forces at the point where the fortifications were stronger than at any other, and at two P.M., under a bright sun and clear sky, ordered an assault. When expostulated with by an under officer, the commander replied: "At this point such a general is in command. At this hour of the day, he is invariably accustomed to retire for a long sleep. When informed of our approach, he will deny the fact, and send a messenger for information. Before the messenger shall return, we shall gain possession of the fortress." The facts turned out exactly as predicted. "Yonder weak point," said the commander, "is held by General ——. There is no use in attempting to surprise him; he is never, for a moment, off his guard." So the imperfectly sanctified believer has his long periods in which he "sleeps as do others," and does so with hardly a dream of peril. In their own regard, in many cases, believers, at their best estate, are "carnal, sold under sin." As a consequence, "they are taken captive by Satan at his will," and feel very little alarm when they find themselves "in captivity to the law of sin which is in their members." "Was not this the experience of Paul?" they exclaim. "All will come out right at death." So their religious teachers too often soothe such deadly slumbers. A fully, and wisely instructed, sanctified believer, on the other hand, is perfected in watchfulness, as well as in other Christian virtues, and, like the prudent general, is never for a moment off his guard. He is "a child of the light, and of the day." No "day of the Lord," nor any other day, nor any wile of Satan, "comes upon him as a thief."

Bear this in mind, reader, that if, from any cause, you shall be deluded into the idea that you have attained to a state in which you have no more occasion to heed the admonitions, "Be sober, be vigilant," and, "Watch unto prayer," your adversary "the devil" will "grin horribly a ghastly smile," saying, "I am sure of you now," and will "sift you as wheat."

Another very common and very erroneous impression is, that were believers entirely sanctified, they would always be in a state of ecstatic joy, and would never be "in heaviness," or "sorrow of heart." As no believers are always in such a state, it is hence concluded that "salvation to the uttermost" is not among the present possibilities of faith. What do we read of the Master? "And He took with Him Peter, and the two sons of Zebedee, and began to be sorrowful and very heavy. Then saith He unto them, My soul is exceeding sorrowful, even unto death." "And being in an agony, He prayed more earnestly: and His sweat was as it were great drops of blood falling down unto the ground." "And there appeared an angel unto Him from heaven, strengthening Him." "It is enough for the disciple to be as his Master, and the servant as his Lord." Christ "knew no sin," but did know "sorrow," and was "acquainted with grief." He was immaculate in purity, and yet had experience of "great heaviness," and sorrow "even unto death." So the believer, who "has been made perfect in love," and has "washed his robes, and made them white in the blood of the Lamb," may be "shown how great things he must suffer for the name of Christ," may be called to endure "great fights of affliction," and, if "need be, may for a season be in heaviness through manifold temptations." Yet suffering and sorrow, with such a mind, are always intermingled with such "everlasting consolations, and good hope through grace," as to induce forms of hallowed experience to which others are strangers. Sitting under the shadow of a great sorrow, with "Christ in the soul, the hope of glory," we naturally exclaim, "Lord, it is good to be here." Never is the PEACE of the soul more PERFECT than when walking with the Son of God in the furnace of affliction and sorrow. Finally, the deepest and most abiding joys possible to the soul outflow from such experiences. Here "patience has her perfect work," and the Divinest virtues are matured and perfected. God would not love us as He does, did He not, from time to time, discipline us with such experiences. "No chastening for the present SEEMETH to be joyous, but grievous" (and it would not be disciplinary, were it otherwise): "nevertheless afterward it yieldeth the peaceable (peace- imparting) fruit of righteousness unto them that are exercised thereby." "We glory in tribulations also: knowing that tribulation worketh patience; and patience, experience; and experience, hope: and hope maketh not ashamed; because the love of God is shed abroad in our hearts by the Holy Ghost which is given unto us."

There is also a very common impression, that a state of entire sanctification implies, in reality, infallibility in knowledge and judgment; and as such a state is never attained, and is unattainable here at least, the doctrine under consideration is denied. To show that the absence of infallibility is sin, it must be shown that God requires of all finite beings absolute infallibility, which can be possessed by no being not endowed with knowledge strictly infinite. On this hypothesis, every angel, and every redeemed spirit in heaven, is a sinner, and will necessarily remain a sinner to all eternity. "God charges His angels with folly," with errors in judgment, but not with sin. "He that KNOWETH to do good, and doeth it not, to him it is sin." Ignorance is of two kinds, voluntary and necessary. It is voluntary, when it exists in the presence of available knowledge. It is necessary, when all means of knowledge are utterly beyond our reach. To affirm that God charges ignorance of this latter kind as sin, is not to convict the creature, in such case, of wrong, but to impute infinite injustice to God. When, on the other hand, ignorance is voluntary, and exists in the presence of means of knowledge known to be available, and of which the subject is conscious that he ought to avail himself, then, for the ignorance itself, and the results of the same, the creature is justly held by God and man as criminal. And these exclusively are the sins of ignorance for which individuals are affirmed to be held responsible in the Old Testament. Specific cases are given, Num. xxxv. 22—25, and Deut. xix. 4—6, in which an individual, with no malice in his heart, and through unavoidable ignorance, occasions the death of a neighbour. In such cases, the slayer is declared innocent, and the punishment of him is, for this specific reason, prohibited; nor is any sacrifice required in such cases. Nothing can be more plain and specific than is the distinction under consideration as set forth in the Scriptures. Furthermore, we are absolutely taught, that "all the law," all that God requires, "is comprehended in one word, love," and that "he that loveth hath fulfilled the law," that is, "stands perfect and complete in ALL the will of God." None can, by any possibility, be infallible, but all may love, and have grace to be "made perfect in love." Entire sanctification, therefore, is among the clearly revealed possibilities of faith.

Strange indeed, that men, "wise and prudent," should, as a last resort, argue that such a state is unattainable, because believers cannot attain to absolute infallibility; an argument which implies absolutely, that every finite being in existence ever has been, now is, and ever will be, a sinner before God.

But one of the most important and frequently urged objections against this doctrine is this: that if believers should think themselves "sanctified wholly," they would be lifted up with pride and self-righteousness; that "a sense of sin" is indispensable to keep us humble, and induce hungerings and thirstings after righteousness. The apostle Peter does not appear to agree at all with this sentiment. He says absolutely that "the time past of our life may suffice us to have wrought the will of the Gentiles." That is, according to inspired wisdom, we have no more need of sin, or consciousness of its presence, as a means of inducing true humility or any other Christian virtue. We must bear in mind that "a sense of sin" cannot exist without the actual and conscious presence of sin itself. Those, therefore, who contend that "the sense of sin" is requisite to the existence and perpetuation of genuine humility in the believer, do in reality contend that the presence of sin itself is absolutely necessary to this end. According to Peter, as we have shown, we have already had a sufficient experience of sin and its death-inducing consequences, never more to need its presence in our consciousness. Men, "wise and prudent," in this our day, think differently from the apostle on this subject. Such a dogma is not less absurd than would be the idea that Christ erred in not having left at least one of the seven devils in Mary Magdalene, to keep her humble, and remind her of her dependence upon Him. Who, as a matter of fact, most thoroughly hate and reprobate tobacco, intoxicating drinks, and opium, and are most safe from a return to their use—those who have been consciously saved from enslavement to their use, and from all appetite and desire to taste them again, or those who have abandoned their use, but yet retain a burning appetite for those poisons? So it is with the believer, when "the blood of Christ has purged his conscience from dead works to serve the living God." From his heart of hearts he will "reckon himself dead indeed unto sin, but alive unto God, through Jesus Christ our Lord." It is not according to John, any more than according to Peter, "when our hearts condemn," but when they "condemn us not, we have confidence toward God, and receive of Him whatsoever we ask;" and thus receive, "because we keep His commandments, and do those things which are pleasing in His sight." He that "serves God with a pure conscience," and whose "heart condemns him not," is the one that of all others "serves God with all humbleness of mind," and "touches nothing that is unclean."

A little of sin, and a consciousness of the same, a necessary requisite to true humbleness of mind! Why not say, then, that a great amount of sin, and a consciousness of the same, are requisite to great humbleness of spirit? Keeping a little of the old leaven, as a means of becoming a new lump! Are our hearts purified by sin or by faith? But suppose that an individual should think himself fully saved, when he is not, would he not, in that case, be in great peril of spiritual pride and other sins? Surely he would. And would not he be in equal peril, who should think himself justified when he is yet in his sins? Shall we cease preaching justification by faith for that reason? So the danger of deception should induce us, not to avoid seeking the blessing of a pure conscience, but to be very careful that we do not receive a counterfeit in the stead of "the pure white stone." Paul was not "puffed up," because he felt assured that "he could do all things through Christ Who strengthened him." The reason was, that at the same time he was equally conscious, that he was not "sufficient of himself to think anything as of himself, but that his sufficiency was of God." Here is the source of all true humbleness of mind—a consciousness of absolute self-poverty and insufficiency, and of an ever available fulness and all-sufficiency in God. The more distinctly conscious we then are of being filled to overflowing, the more deep and abiding will be our love, gratitude, and humbleness of mind, and the less need shall we have of sin, and the sense of its presence, to perfect in us any form of Christian virtue.

I refer to but one other of the most common and popular objections to the doctrine of Full Salvation, and especially to the idea of its immediate attainment. How often is it said in opposition to such a doctrine, "I do not believe in this entire and immediate sanctification. I believe in growing in grace." This was the identical objection urged by a leading minister in a meeting for prayer and inquiry during one of the Conferences on Scriptural Holiness in Freemasons' Hall. "Will you tell us candidly," asked the chairman of the objector, "whether you are conscious of such growth in your own experience?" "I have grown in knowledge," was the reply, after a moment's reflection. "But are you really conscious of actual growth in grace during the years that have gone by?" "I have grown in knowledge," was the second reply. "Will you tell us candidly now whether you are conscious of real growth in spirituality during the many years under consideration?" "I am not conscious of real growth in holiness during these years," was the final answer. There is not one in a million among all who urge the same objection, who could honestly give a different answer in respect to the conscious facts of his own experience. Under the idea of such growth the mass of the ministry and membership of the churches are at a dead standstill, or are sliding backwards, in their religious experiences.

Let us for a moment turn our attention directly upon this idea of spiritual growth. In such growth, as actually understood by its advocates, we give up sin, and advance in holiness gradually, "little by little." According to this idea, we have, in the precept, "Grow in grace," a positive command from God not to cease at once from all sin, and become fully obedient, but to "cease to do evil, and learn to do well," gradually, "little by little." In other words, we should disobey a positive command of God if we should at once cease all disobedience. In other words still, we should sin, if we should cease to sin!

Furthermore, if "growth in grace" implies a gradual "breaking off of sin by righteousness," there it was by this identical process that Christ finally attained to a state in which He "knew no sin." It is absolutely affirmed (Luke ii. 52) that Christ did, in fact, grow in grace. The term rendered "favour" there is, in the original, the identical one rendered "grace" in the precept, "Grow in grace." What is actually required of us in this precept is, that we be, as Christ was, "pure in heart," and then grow, as He did, in the Divine virtues already possessed. Growth is not, as the too common idea of "growth in grace" implies, a gradual recovery from disease, but the development of healthy faculties. "Unto you who fear My name shall the Sun of Righteousness arise with healing in His wings; and ye shall go forth and GROW UP as calves of the stall." First, healing, restoration to perfect soundness of health, and then growth, is God's condition and order of growth in grace. Such is the doctrine distinctly set forth, I Peter ii. 2 "As newborn babes, desire the sincere milk of the word, that ye may GROW thereby." Here we have the idea, first, of perfect health, or purity; then the administration of the true aliment, the truth of God revealed by the Spirit and, finally, GROWTH— "growth in grace," in the favour "and in the knowledge of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ." The believer who expects to "grow in grace" by gradually, "little by little," "breaking off his sins by righteousness, and his iniquities by cleaving unto the Lord," attempts growth after Satan's, not God's, method. If your "newborn babe" is sick, first seek its health, and then its growth. So if you, reader, have, in any form or degree, the leprosy of sin upon you, first of all seek healing, perfect healing. Then you may "go forth and grow up as calves of the stall."

CHAPTER XVI.

TRUTH AND ERROR, AS THEY APPEAR IN THE LIGHT OF FACTS OF OBSERVATION AND EXPERIENCE.

"YE shall know them by their fruits." We have here a revealed test, not only of the character of men, but of doctrine as taught by men. The thorn-bush does not bear grapes, nor does the thistle yield figs. "A good man, out of the good treasure of his heart, bringeth forth good things; and an evil man, out of the evil treasure, bringeth forth evil things." So the fruit of good doctrine is holiness; while that of error is sin. "If they had stood in My counsel, and had caused My people to hear My words, then they should have turned them from their evil way, and from the evil of their doings." "What is the chaff to the wheat? saith the Lord. Is not My word like as a fire, saith the Lord; and like a hammer that breaketh the rock in pieces?" He that, by the Spirit of the Lord, has been made to "know the things that are freely given us of God," who "takes heed unto himself, and unto the doctrine, and continues in them," will "both save himself, and them that hear him." He that "lacketh these things," and teaches error instead of truth, "is blind," and "a leader of the blind," and he himself, and they that hear him, " will fall into the ditch." Essential truth, it should be borne in mind, may be taught in connection with some form of essential error, and the influence of the former may be thereby neutralised. It is in this manner that systems of Christian doctrine, constituted mainly of pure truth, are "made void," and neutralised in their moral and spiritual influence, by having introduced into them elements, or forms, of neutralising error.

Omission is another form of teaching in which real truth may be rendered void of moral and spiritual power. An individual may teach most fully and correctly, for example, the essential truth of justification by faith, and omit teaching or urging the equally essential doctrine of sanctification by faith. Under such a ministry many souls may be converted. Converts, under such teaching, however, will never become "spiritual," but will ever remain "carnal, babes in Christ." So the preaching of Christ may become void of saving power by an exclusive presentation of one aspect of His character, to the omission of others equally essential. "Thou LOVEST righteousness, and hatest iniquity." Both aspects of His character must stand out in distinct and impressive visibility before the mind, or the revelation of Him will lose its renovating power. Christ now reigns as our Prince and Saviour, and "intercedes as our Great High Priest." In the final consummation He will sit as "Judge of quick and dead." In each relation He will be absolutely perfect in His ministrations. In the exercise of true and perfect faith in Christ, we "rejoice in hope of the glory of God," "come boldly to a throne of grace," and "serve God acceptably, with reverence and godly fear." We know Christ, when, and only when, the revelation of Him to our minds inspires and perfects all these and kindred sentiments in our hearts and lives.

Whoever would understand correctly the real character of his system of Christian doctrine, or any distinct element of the same, should set them before his mind in the clear light of principles like those above stated. If he would know the practical results of holding and teaching any doctrine, or system of doctrines, let him put to himself such questions as these: Do the holding and teaching such doctrine or system actually induce among believers that peculiar and special form of experience and life revealed in the Scriptures as characterising the New-Testament saint, as disclosed in such passages as John vii. 37—39; xiv. 15—21; and xvii. 20—23? Do those who receive such doctrine or system "hunger and thirst after righteousness"? Do they "wait the promise of the Father," until they are consciously "filled with the Holy Ghost"? Do they "grow up into Christ in all things"? Has "God made known to them what is the riches of the glory of this mystery among the Gentiles, which is Christ in you, the hope of glory"? Finally, have they "power with God and with men," such as is not possessed by believers who hold and teach different and opposite views?

For upwards of forty-six years, as is well known, I have stood before the Church and the world as holding and teaching certain doctrines and forms of Christian experience and life, exactly opposite to those under the influence of which I had been born and educated, and which had been held as vital truths among all the churches and denominations with which I had been associated. All who know me understand fully that I hold and teach the system of the evangelical faith intact, and in its entireness. In connection with this system, and in total opposition to my primal views, I hold and teach not only the doctrine of justification by faith but that of sanctification by faith; that through faith it is the revealed privilege and duty of every believer to be "saved unto the uttermost," ''sanctified wholly," and in ''his whole spirit and soul and body be preserved blameless unto the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ;" that after regeneration, and the exercise of "repentance toward God, and faith toward our Lord Jesus Christ," there awaits the faith of the believer "the promise of the Father," for which he is to tarry in prayer and supplication, until he is "filled with the Holy Ghost," and "endued with power from on high" for holy living and work; and that, as the final result, the believer is "strengthened with might by the Spirit in the inner man, that Christ may dwell in his heart by faith," and he shall know, by experience, what those mysterious words of our Saviour mean: "I in them, and Thou in Me, that they may be made perfect in one; and that the world may know that Thou hast sent Me, and hast loved them, as Thou hast loved Me." This I also hold and teach, that the believer who stops short with regeneration, and does not advance in the line of experience above indicated, will, whatever his purposes and efforts for holy living may be, be nothing more than an Old-Testament saint, and that under the dispensation of the Spirit, and will remain to the end of life "carnal, a babe in Christ."

During the more than forty-six years referred to, I have not only been teaching as stated, but have been a careful observer of the results of such teachings, as contrasted with the visible fruits of that form of Christian doctrine which I once held and taught. The outcome of such observation has been the absolute conviction, that either a tree is not to be known by its fruit, or the change from my former to my present views of Christian doctrine has been a Divine translation "out of darkness into God's marvellous light." Whenever this doctrine is preached "in the power of the Spirit," just those changes do occur in the inner and outer life of believers, which occurred in the experience of the apostles and their associates at the Pentecost. Wherever this doctrine is held in theory, and not taught "in the power of the Spirit," and wherever it is repudiated and opposed, and wherever the opposite doctrine is held and taught, there never appears a visible conformity to the following exhortation of the apostle: "Therefore leaving the principles of the doctrine of Christ, let us go on unto perfection; not laying again the foundation of repentance from dead works, and of faith toward God."

I will now adduce some important facts in confirmation of the above-statements. What is the changeless state of the churches, and of individual experience and life, where the doctrine of sanctification by faith, and other kindred doctrines, are not taught? Some years before his death the Rev. Albert Barnes delivered a discourse, in the city of New York, on the Millennium. During the progress of that discourse, he made the following statement in regard to the then existing condition of the churches: "Not one in ten of the membership of our church are doing anything effective for the sanctification of believers, or the salvation of sinners." That utterance was very extensively reported, and never, to my knowledge, was its strict correctness questioned. "Too many new converts," says Dr. Cuyler, "sit down contented with the fact that they are converted. Born into the kingdom, they are satisfied to remain babies or dwarfs. To 'make a profession' seems to be about the beginning and the end of their religion. They have no spiritual ambition to get beyond their alphabet; and the Church of Christ gains very little more than their useless, uncreditable names on its muster-rolls. Such people are the cumberers of the vineyard, the drones in the hive, the laggards on the march, ever ready to desert to the enemy. If they are ever admitted to heaven at last, it will be an amazing condescension of Divine grace."

During the progress of the great revival in Detroit, under the labours of Dr. Pentecost, a Christian Conference of the Churches in the State of Michigan was held. I take from an address delivered before the Conference by the Rev. A. G. Pearson, D.D., pastor of the Presbyterian church where the meetings were held, the following extracts, as bearing upon the subject under consideration

"God meant to impress men by the contrast of the unworldliness of His people; but, on the whole, the witness of a separate and sanctified life is gone, and the witness of the tongue of fire is gone with it. The worldliness of the Church is a fact to which we cannot with impunity shut our eyes. Let us pray that our vision may be cleared of every veil or film, that we may not see obscurely,—men as trees walking,—but with a healthy eye, the actual state of things. Dr. Rice, of Virginia, whose name will long be fragrant in the churches, has said that 'the work of foreign missions will not advance to any great degree till there is a higher type of piety at home; that it would not consist with the plan of God to diffuse over the world such a low type of piety as prevails among us.'

"In fact, such a sort of piety has but little disposition to diffuse itself; it requires all its vitality and energy to maintain its present position—there is none to spare. An eminent writer says that 'four-fifths of the nominal membership of our churches add nothing to their real power; they are either a dead weight or a positive hindrance to the advance of the Gospel; they help to fill up the gulf between the Church and the world, and break down the distinction between the truly regenerate and the enemies of God and the truth.'

"A most startling fact in our church life is the absence of personal service in saving souls. Most nominal disciples seem to lose sight of service in the pursuit of salvation, while even salvation is sought with but feeble and spasmodic effort. During twenty years, I have been wont to urge upon disciples a systematic, habitual seeking of souls. In hundreds of cases I have put the question pointedly, 'Do you know that you have been instrumental in leading one soul to Christ?' only to hear the sad confession that there has been no effort made in that direction. A little careful thought will convince us that multitudes of professed disciples are absolutely neglecting the unsaved about them; that the question of personal responsibility is scarcely considered."

A family of Christian sisters in this city, orphan daughters of a clergyman, spent their late summer vacation in different localities. In all cases, as their invariable custom is, they held services in parlours, schoolrooms, and halls, as Providence opened their way, for the sanctification of believers and the salvation of sinners; and in all cases their efforts, as usual, were signally successful. In one place, where they held a few meetings, no revival influence existing there, aside from the great spiritual blessings received by not a few believers, some twenty-five hopeful conversions occurred, large numbers of inquirers remaining unsaved. Among the converts was an old man one hundred and one years of age. After his conversion, he made this statement to one of these sisters: "Never, in all my life, until you came here, did a single individual address a serious word to me on the salvation of my soul." Yet this man had spent his long life in the midst of evangelical churches of various denominations.

When attending a conference on Scriptural Holiness in the city of Scarborough, the pastor of the first Independent church in the city made this statement, in the presence of the large congregation assembled, in illustration of the state of the churches. "An influential member of the legal profession," remarked this pastor, "called upon me some time since, and called as a serious inquirer on the subject of religion. The first question he put to me was this: 'Will you tell me, in all sincerity, whether there is in Christianity a power actually to save men from their sins? I confess to you that the visible lives of professing Christians whom I know force a painful doubt in my mind on this question. Select now ten or a dozen of your leading and most approved members, and I will parallel their lives by those of a corresponding number of non-professors. Do tell me whether there is in the Gospel the actual saving power which the Bible affirms to exist in it.' My answer was, 'Yes. There is in Christianity just this vital power.' But I could not verify my statement by a reference to the actual state of the churches around me."

In regard to the remarks of Dr. Rice in respect to "the work of foreign missions," I may refer to a few palpable facts. I first give a fact stated some time since in Divine Life, with the comments which we then published in regard to it.

"'A station in India,' says the London Freeman, 'which has been open for more than sixty years, and has now three European missionaries, three evangelists, and one teacher, and only seven members, inclusive, we suppose, of the evangelists and teacher, leaving only three native members who are not supported by the funds of the mission, may be an equally wonderful illustration of faith; but it may also be a wonderful illustration of folly. With many millions in India to whom the Gospel has not yet been proclaimed, would it not be more in accordance with apostolic example if our brethren went forth to proclaim the Gospel in regions beyond, than it is to remain among a people who have so long, refused to receive their message?'

"Instead of commending those missionaries for 'their wonderful faith,' or censuring them for 'their wonderful folly,' in continuing thus long such fruitless labours, we would, could we gain their ears, solemnly urge and admonish them to stop at once in their work, and tarry just where they are 'in prayer and supplication before God,' until they are all fully 'baptized with the Holy Ghost,' and then, in that very place, to recommence their labours 'in the power of the Spirit.' No 'three European missionaries, three evangelists, and one teacher,' who were 'full of faith and of the Holy Ghost,' and who went about their work 'in the power of the Spirit,' ever laboured sixty years, or many years, among any people without turning many to righteousness."

The above is, no doubt, an exceptional case. We now adduce another, which may be regarded as not exceptional, but as a fair example of the results of missionary operations generally, when conducted on the same principles and in the same spirit. The American Board of Commissioners for Foreign Missions have been conducting such operations upwards of seventy years, and they have stations in all missionary lands. They have, in conducting their operations, expended between fifteen and twenty millions of dollars; and have employed, on an average, from two to five hundred missionaries. The number of present members in all the churches gathered in is, according to their official reports, about fifteen thousand. According to ancient reckoning, some two hundred and fifty thousand converts were gathered into the Church in the province of Babylon alone, before the death of all the apostles. More than forty years since, this American Board dismissed two of its approved and faithful missionaries in Siam, for no other reason than the fact that they had embraced the doctrine of Entire Sanctification.

If we should recur to individual experience, we should find, with exceptions very few and far between, the same account of barrenness and failure in the religious life. Never in my life, up to the time of my own emergence "out of darkness into light," did I meet with a single minister or believer in any of the denominations with which I was connected, whose avowed experience did not take specific form from Rom. vii. 14—25. All the memoirs which I read—and I read the best of the class—were most largely characterised by the same pattern. As illustrative of the character of the Inner Life as realised in the common experience of individual believers, I cite three important passages bearing directly upon this subject. The first is from a distinguished American preacher, and is taken from a discourse on the "Consolations of Religion:"—"And yet how stinted and uncertain the measure of happiness which even the best of Christians is able daily to derive from this Divine fountain! His earthly cares, his daily employments, his bodily wants and infirmities, his foolish imaginations, his anxious thoughts, his variable humours, his doubts and fears, and his unavoidable interruptions, are constantly spreading a mist around him, or gathering dark and impervious clouds over his head, which not only hide the bright shining of the Sun of Righteousness, but are even filled with lightnings, overshadowing his soul with darkness and dread. All sources of happiness, save one, are either drained or poisoned. And of that, the best of Christians rather desires to taste, than actually and freely drinks. The infirmities of our bodies, the unavoidable imperfections of the existence allotted us, serve the purpose of the flaming sword of the cherubim, turning every way, to guard all access to the tree of life against exiles from Paradise."

The second paragraph is from the pen of a world-renowned Scotch divine, and is taken from a pamphlet containing a reply to the Rev. A. W. Christopher's defence of the doctrine of the Higher Life:—

"I pray that I may be enabled to write calmly and kindly, keeping before me the solemnity of the subject, and being mindful of Him Whose I am and Whom I serve. I dread the thought of a matter such as this passing out of the region of Scripture argument into that of human passion or narrow partisanship; and I distrust myself, for I know too well, in spite of all that Mr. Smith has said, that 'to will is present with me, but how to perform that which is good I find not; for the good that I would I do not, but the evil which I would not that I do;' and knowing this, may I not rejoice in apostolic sympathy when I add, 'O wretched man that I am'?"

Our last extract is from the last paragraph of a published discourse of one of the most celebrated Nonconformist ministers in Great Britain, a discourse based upon the text, "Fear not; I am with thee:"—

"'Is anything too hard for the Lord?' 'Is His arm shortened that it cannot save?' Such questions as these must meet with a quick answer in our spirit. We must feel that there is with us a mighty Worker, a real working, active, potent, faithful, truthful Agent, Who, having promised to help us, will help us, and never leave us nor forsake us till He has accomplished all His eternal purpose, and brought us to Himself in heaven. Ah! my brethren and sisters, if you have come to this, and can always keep there, I only wish I could; I can believe in God, and do believe in Him—'glory be to His name!'—and have seen His arm uplifted and His faithfulness and truth displayed as few have seen; but yet that awful unbelief, that dark miasma which is the death of comfort, this worse than cholera, this pest, this infidelity, for which no excuse can be made, this most damnable of sins, this which has no foundation, for which I will not whisper even a thought of apology, this still creeps over us and unmans us! How it throws us into the mire! How it breaks our bones, and, like a mighty Juggernaut-car, rolls over our very nature to crush it into nothing! O God, save us from it! Help us to trust Thee! it is all we want; it is human omnipotence. Help us to rest upon Thee! it is all we want; it is heaven to our souls. Help us to be sure that Thou art, and that Thou art the Rewarder of them that diligently seek Thee, and that Thy promise must stand fast and firm; this were to make us sons of God indeed, and of a truth, and to give us the enjoyment of heaven while lingering in the valleys of earth. May God bless us with this faith!

Read the above extracts to the entire class of believers who hold the same views of the Christian life that these eminent teachers do, and with one voice all, with few, very few, exceptions, would testify that we have before us "a literal, accurate, and correct photograph" of their religious life and experience. Yet when we compare this with the photograph of the same experience and life, as drawn by the pen of Inspiration, we shall be compelled to confess that the two differ, not in degree, but in essential particulars, in kind, and that they stand out, not in the relation of pleasing resemblance, but of painful contrast. Now, the inference which we draw from this palpable dissimilarity is this: There must be something essentially wrong somewhere in the views and teachings of these individuals in regard to the immunities and privileges of believers in this life. For centuries these views and teachings have stood out with the greatest prominence before the churches, throughout Christendom, and everywhere and at all times the same contrast has been palpably manifest between the Christian life and experience under these views and teachings, and the same as portrayed in the Scriptures, and revealed as actual in the inner and visible lives of the apostles and primitive believers. What do we find in the above representations but most painful contrasts to the forms of the Christian life represented by such words and forms of expression as, "shall flow rivers of living water;" "in him a well of water springing up into everlasting life;" "that your joy may be full;" "rejoicing with joy unspeakable and full of glory;" "as sorrowful, yet always rejoicing;" "able to comfort them which are in any trouble by the comfort wherewith we are comforted of God;" "learned in whatever state I am therewith to be content;" and "able to do all things through Christ, Which strengtheneth me"? What are the reasons for this strange contrast between what God has revealed, and the mass of Christians' experience? What is the cause of the feeble and sickly state in which so many sincere believers spend their lives, and among these not a few of the eminent teachers of God's truth?

The Contrast.

Such was the essential form of my Christian experience and life for quite eighteen years after my conversion. Contemplating the conscious facts of my inner and outer life, as a believer in Jesus, and the avowed experience of the ministry and membership of the churches around me; seeing nothing in my own and the common view of the Gospel which promised anything better or higher than the past had been; and finding my best, most sincere, and earnest purposes and endeavours to do as required—that is, to "put on strength," to "be strong in the Lord, and in the power of His might," to "mount up on wings as eagles," and to "know nothing but Jesus Christ and Him crucified" —to be almost utter failures, I said to myself, "I know that I have missed my way, and am living and acting under an essential misapprehension of the secret of the Divine Life revealed in the Word of God." I also said in my heart of hearts, "I will not rest, and I will give my God no rest, until He shall make known to me the true and living way." The result is before the world. For more than forty-six years, my inner and outer life has taken on forms so new, and, as it seems to me, so divine, that for a time after the change, as I have before stated, I seriously doubted whether I had previously been a regenerated man. All doubt upon the subject, however, was early removed. I no more doubt the genuineness of my conversion than I do that of my present state. But what shall we think of the two forms of Christian experience and life, through which I have passed? I have most carefully compared them with those of the apostles and their associates before and after the Pentecost, and I find the parallel perfect in both cases. I know by experience what it is to be an Old-Testament saint, on the one hand, and what it is to be a New-Testament saint, on the other, just as the two are distinctly daguerreotyped in the Word of God. Canon (now Bishop) Ryle said that we have in Rom. vii. 14—25, "a correct, accurate, and perfect daguerreotype of the experience of every true saint of God." Had he added, "of every true saint of God" who has not "received the Holy Ghost since he believed," the only form of the Christ life which he then knew, he would have been correct in his affirmation. In this state, that of the Old-Testament saint, the believer is not "spiritual, but carnal, a babe in Christ," "carnal, sold under sin." "The good which" such a believer "would he does not; but the evil which he would not, that he does;" "the law in his members warring against the law of his mind, and bringing him into captivity to the law of sin which is in his members." Well may he exclaim, "O wretched man that I am! Who shall deliver me from the body of this death?" Apostles, and Christ, and heaven, and all Pentecostal believers, sympathise with such a saint, and they also "marvel at his unbelief." I know what such a wretched life is; for I have experienced it.

The life and experience of the New-Testament saint of God, the Pentecostal believer, are daguerreotyped in the Scriptures in such bright-shining revelations as the following: "The law of the Spirit of life in Christ Jesus hath made me free from the law of sin and death;" "In all these things we are more than conquerors through Him that bath loved us;" "By Whom I am crucified unto the world, and the world unto me;" "I live, yet not I, but Christ liveth in me;" "Christ in you the hope of glory;" "Whom having not seen, ye love; in Whom, though now ye see Him not, yet believing, ye rejoice with joy unspeakable and full of glory;" "Truly our fellowship is with the Father and with His Son Jesus Christ;" "And these things write we unto you, that your joy may be full."

For more than forty-six years, I repeat, I have had my spiritual dwelling-place in the midst of such bright-shining revelations as these, and my inner and outer Christian life and experience have been in conscious conformity with them. Why should I doubt the divineness of such a life and experience? Is not this "the King's Highway?" What is written? "And an highway shall be there, and a way, and it shall be called The way of holiness; the unclean shall not pass over it; but it shall be for those: the wayfaring men, though fools, shall not err therein. No lion shall be there, nor any ravenous beast shall go up thereon, it shall not be found there; but the redeemed shall walk there: and the ransomed of the Lord shall return, and come to Zion with songs and everlasting joy upon their heads: they shall obtain joy and gladness, and sorrow and sighing shall flee away."

When I contemplate the visible results of my own labours, facts everywhere present themselves to confirm my faith and encourage my efforts. From twenty-five to thirty years I discharged the functions of President of College, fifteen years at Oberlin, Ohio, and the remainder at Adrian, Mich. At each place I uniformly preached once or twice each Sabbath. No single year passed under my Presidency without one or more revivals of great power among the students, very frequently when no such work of grace existed within hearing distance around us. Often would ministers, who had called upon us from a distance, say to me, when coming out of one of our weekly prayer-meetings at Adrian College, "I never before attended such a prayer-meeting as that." "It is not the preaching, but the prayers of these students, that is the occasion of these revivals," said one of the Professors. When the preaching referred to ended, however, revivals ceased. I cannot present an account of these revivals, and of the character of the religious experiences developed, in a more vivid shape, than in the following extract from a letter published in the Oberlin Evangelist in 1845; a letter of personal testimony from one of our former pupils:—

"I trust I was converted about seven years since. The Lord then became the life and delight of my soul. I served Him with some degree of faithfulness, according as my mind was enlightened in the truth at that time. I, however, panted after a clearer vision of truth, and greater conformity to the will of God. About the year 1840, the Lord in His providence brought me to Oberlin, and placed me in circumstances favourable to getting a better understanding of the Gospel. The preaching which I then heard was searching, pungent, 'piercing to the dividing asunder of soul and spirit,' and was attended with a demonstration and power which I had never before experienced. I endeavoured to hasten and follow on after the truth. But still I was so tardy, and the truth was gathering upon me with such rapidity and clearness, that conviction ripened on my mind, and I saw myself far behind my privileges. I was fully convinced that there was a depth of meaning and reality in almost all the promises of God, to which I was an entire stranger. There certainly was a deep spiritual experience promised which I had not attained. This conviction was ripening in my mind for a number of months, and pressing me more and more.

"In this state of mind I sometimes waxed stubborn and rebellious, and appeared to myself more wicked and abominable than I had ever been before. I could enjoy no religion,—in short, God would not let me rest until I arose and sought a higher spiritual state. I said to myself, 'I will arise and seek God with all my soul, and will never rest till I experience what He has promised.' I sought the Lord day and night for weeks. I became more and more impetuous in my prayer. I said, 'I will die but that I will find God.' Many things came up to prevent my seeking God. I had just entered college. My studies demanded much of my time; my health failed;—indeed it seemed sometimes that I must give up the search. 'But no,' said I; 'this is a matter of life and death. I will know God, health or no health study or no study.'

"Just at this time a powerful revival of religion took place in the Institution. But this only made me more and more anxious. Almost everybody was praying. When I arose in the night to call upon God, I could hear, from the adjoining rooms and the surrounding woods, the voice of prayer, which broke the stillness of the night with awful solemnity. As I went through the halls, my ears were constantly assailed with deep-toned, heartbroken prayers, which pierced my heart as a sharp sword. Frequently, when hearing these prayers, my spirit was so broken and wounded that I would hasten to my room and fall upon my face as a wounded man, and cry to God for mercy. But God had mercy upon me. As I was one day calmly reflecting in my room, the thought came very distinctly to my mind, that without faith it is impossible to please God. Immediately the way of faith was suggested to me. I took my Concordance, and selected the most important passages that speak of faith. I studied these passages, and sought the Lord to show me the way of faith as it is taught in His Word. After some reflection, and with great calmness of mind, I had a distinct apprehension of what faith is, and how I could exercise it, and that by so doing I could not fail to receive the blessings which I sought. I immediately stepped forth into the faith of God, like stepping from a miry slough upon a broad and solid platform. I saw that I had nothing to do but to keep my confidence in God. I had no contention but with those things that would hinder my faith. 'Now,' the Lord seemed to say, 'if you have any requests, bring them forward.' I did so. My wants were no sooner named than met. I knew that I had found the way to God. This was a time of harvest. For days and weeks, as my wants arose, I carried them to God, and found them met immediately—met fully and abundantly.

"My first request was that God would heal my head, so that I might pursue my studies. I had been troubled a number of weeks with confusion and pain in my head, so that I was entirely unfitted for study. I had used, and was then using, means for my recovery, but to no effect. I judged that God could do it. I presented my request; the work was performed immediately, and so thoroughly that I have felt no symptoms of that complaint since that time, which was about five years ago.

"This, however, appeared to me but a small thing. God had greater mercies in store for me. The way had now become open before me, and I went forward to those great things which I had so long sought. To know God, to have communion with Him through our Lord Jesus Christ, to have complete victory over my sins, to love my fellow-men, to know God as my Father; these things I sought and realised in a sense which I had never known before. In short, the Lord made a complete era in my experience. He commenced a new period, which in many respects has been different from what I had passed through before."

A chief peculiarity of my religious teachings, as is well known, is the doctrine of the Baptism of the Holy Ghost. A leading clergyman of the Church of England has recently published a work upon this subject under the title, The Forgotten Truth. Most of the membership of our churches, he tells us in the preface, might say with truth, "We have not so much as heard whether there be any Holy Ghost." Mr. Moody states that he had been a Christian for some ten years before he ever heard an allusion to that topic, the very one which now constitutes a central theme of all his teachings. When my work upon the subject had been prepared for the press, I sent it to Mrs. Phoebe Palmer, of New York, that it might be published, on her recommendation, by her son. After examining the work, she wrote me advising that it should be published by some house connected with a Calvinistic denomination. Methodists, she suggested, were hardly prepared to receive the doctrine in the form stated; so new, at that time, was the subject even to leading advocates of the doctrine of Entire Sanctification. On further consultation, the work was published by her son, under her recommendation. Since then it has been very extensively circulated in America, in Great Britain, and in all missionary lands; and has been translated into the German and Dutch languages. In a letter just received from the Rev. Griffith John, of Hankow, China, I am informed that he is contemplating the translation of portions of the work into the Chinese language, for the spiritual benefit of converts in that empire. What a wonderful change has occurred in the direction of Christian thought and discourse since the publication of that work! In the year 1875, the great theologian who sustains the real relation of Primate of the Established Church in Germany, made this remark to a friend of mine: "For centuries past the main direction of Christian thought has been in reference to the distinctive offices of the Father and the Son. Hereafter a central theme of Christian thought and discourse will be the mission of the Third Person of the Trinity." Subsequent facts and indications have fully verified that statement. The current of thought and discourse throughout Christendom is moving with increasing power in this one fixed direction. Everywhere the consciousness of the fact that the great need of the Church, and of individual believers, is "enduement of power from on high," is pressing with greater and greater weight upon all believing hearts. The Christian Press is being more and more burdened with this one theme. In all Christian conferences and gatherings, this is more and more the theme of thought and discourse. Evangelists, male and female, preachers, and lay members of the churches, individuals of all classes, who have visible "power with God and men," are avowedly going forth to their work, as Christ did to His, "in the power of the Spirit." I do not claim that my work or my influence has been a chief cause of this change. For what God has accomplished through my instrumentality in forwarding the change, "I herein do rejoice, yea, and will rejoice." I propose now to give

Some Specific Facts illustrative of the Influence of this and kindred Doctrines.

It is well known that during the first four centuries of the Christian era this doctrine, together with that of Entire Sanctification, was the leading theme of the Christian Church. In all ages subsequent to this, there have been revivals of the same forms of teaching and life, through the influence of the wisest and holiest men and women known in the annals of the Church. It was under the "enduement of power from on high," sought and obtained as it is now sought, though designated by another name, that the Reformation was effected in Scotland, and in the English Church under William Law, and partially in the Catholic Church under Madame Guyon and Archbishop Fénélon. The same form of experience, under the name of "Full Assurance," was sought and enjoyed and proclaimed by President Edwards and his wife, the Tenants, and many others, in their time; while Wesley, Fletcher, and their associates, were setting forth the same great truth under the titles, "Christian Perfection," "Perfect Love," &c. I refer to but one other case, which occurred years before brother Finney or myself ever thought of the subject: the case of Professor Tholuck, to which I have alluded in an earlier part of this volume, and on which I will now add the following remarks:—

Professor Tholuck.

"The Baptism of Fire" which Tholuck received, accounts for the impressive distinction which he was accustomed to draw between the experience of those who have not, and of those who have, received that baptism. He had been in both these states, and knew well how to describe them, and to set the one in contrast over against the other. In the former state, Christ is, at best, "as a stranger and sojourner," who visits the soul but at seasons few and far between, and then His visits are very short and transitory; in the latter state, He is an ever abiding, glory-manifesting, and glory-manifested, personal Presence. In the former state, He is outside the soul, and so far off that, for the most part, it knows not where it may find Him; in the latter, He is "formed within," and abides there, as "the hope of glory." In the former state, mere occasional glimpses only are obtained of Him in the latter, "His glory is beheld with open face," and beheld as the soul's "everlasting light." The contrast between these two states is thus impressively presented by Tholuck:—

"The intercourse of many Christians with their Lord is like that which His disciples had with Him after His resurrection. He had not then come to them in the Spirit, not yet made His dwelling in their hearts; but was still, as it were, without them, permitting them only now and then to be conscious of His presence. He came, they knew not when; He went, they knew not whither. Their hearts, indeed, burned when He was near, but failed when He departed. Thus with Christians now. The Saviour comes to them, they feel that He is near, and are glad while they listen to His word. He departs, and they go back to the business of life. Many of His sayings they do not understand, but, like the disciples, they are afraid to ask Him."

Facts connected with the Great Spiritual Movement of the Present Time.

"But ye shall receive POWER, after that the Holy Ghost is come upon you," was the promise of our Saviour to His disciples, when "He left the world to go unto the Father." Another promise connected with the coming of the Spirit upon believers is this: "And on My servants and on My handmaidens I will pour out in those days of My Spirit, and they shall PROPHESY." "Ye shall receive power," and "They shall prophesy," are distinct forms of the "promise of the Spirit" which have come down through the ages to the heart and mouth of every believer in Jesus. I may be permitted to present some illustrative facts, under these two aspects of our subject especially.

When attending a conference at Red Hill, some years since, a minister from Australia delivered one of the most interesting and impressive addresses on the Higher Life that we ever listened to. After giving an account of his own experience, and of the spread of the truth among the ministry and churches in that country, he referred to a member of his own church, a young woman who laboured as a domestic. On learning, after she had sought and obtained "the promise of the Spirit," that wages were very much higher in a distant part of the country than where she was, she went thither. The speaker then read a letter which he had just received from the pastor of the church where this young woman had gone. "As I listened," said the writer, "to the remarks of that young woman in the class and prayer meetings, one fact very deeply impressed my mind, namely, that she was possessed of a power that I had not. So deep did that impression at length become, that I went to her and requested her to tell me the secret of that new and Divine life which she was living. In listening to her statements I saw clearly my own deficiency and need, and sought and obtained an 'enduement of power from on high.' The result of speaking to my people in the 'power of this endless life' has already been a total revolution in the state of my church, and the addition to its membership of between six and seven hundred converts from the world around, while the work of the Lord, with no indications of abatement, is still going forward from strength to strength." What a new power was brought into that community by the coming of that female domestic, coming as she did "in the power of the Spirit!" "Would God that all the Lord's people were" (as they are now privileged to be) "prophets, and that the Lord would put His Spirit upon them!"

Several years since, Admiral Fishbourne was travelling by railroad. Among his company were a clergyman and his daughter—the wife and mother having died some time before—and an evangelist of deep religious experience and power, Mr. Brownlow North. During the conversation, the daughter stated to the evangelist that her mother, for years prior to her death, had been in the habit of holding prayer meetings and Bible readings with the female members of the church and congregation, and that she left behind her upwards of a hundred women who steadily attended her meetings. "All these," said the young lady, "now look to me, and expect me to take the place left vacant by my mother. To do this appears to me an utter impossibility. I do not know what to say to these persons, or how to say it. What shall I do?" "Every individual," replied the evangelist, "is, until they are cast out, indwelt by two or more devils, which must be cast out before he can render effective service for Christ. I was possessed of very many. You, as I perceive, have had two, a deaf devil and a dumb devil. The former has been cast out already; your ears are opened to the call of duty. Now ask Christ to cast out of you this dumb devil, and He will do it, and then you will rejoice to take your mother's place." "I am in earnest, Mr. North," replied the inquirer. "So am I," was the reply. "And now, to 'speak plainly and to speak no proverb,' let me earnestly advise you to take your case directly to Christ, and lay it fully before Him, just as you have done before me, and ask Him to 'baptize you with the Holy Ghost,' and thus endue you with power for any service to which He may call you. Do this, and He will not only grant your request, but will Himself 'dwell in your heart by faith,' and enlarge your heart exceedingly, and open your mouth, and loosen your tongue to speak for Him all that He desires you to speak." About one year subsequent to this, a friend of the admiral met that young lady. "As soon as I looked in her face," he remarked, "I read the joyful change which had occurred in her experience. 'I did,' she observed, 'as I was by the evangelist advised to do, and did receive the "promise of the Spirit by faith." Since then it has been an unspeakable privilege to me to occupy the place vacated by my mother's death. In addition to this, I now, at all times, feel a perfect readiness to speak for Christ to one or a hundred, as occasion requires.'"

A Christian lady, the wife of an Episcopal minister in London, employed the words above cited to express the change which had occurred in her experience. When Mr. Moody was in the city, she was requested and urged to take a section near her for family visitation. To do so appeared a physical impossibility. During a ten days' confinement from illness she sought and received "the promise of the Spirit." "Since then," she remarked, "I have ever been ready to speak to one or a hundred, as duty calls," and she moves among her people as a pillar of light.

I allude now to one other case, that of a lady teacher who had more than one hundred lady pupils under her care. We cite from an address of Rev. C. Clemance, D.D., delivered in the Conference in Freemasons' Hall, March 5—10, 1877: "At the time of Moody and Sankey's meetings in England, a lady came to me one day in great distress, and said, 'Sir, I have such a burden on my heart. I am engaged in such a school in such a district, and there are a lot of pupils before my eyes, and I know I ought to tell them about the Saviour's love, but I cannot. It seems as if a padlock were on my lips. I cannot speak and it is quite a burden upon me every day. I cannot speak to people about Christ, and I want to do so.' I said, 'Do you really want to do so? Do you mean that you really wish to open your lips for Christ, and that you cannot do it?' 'Yes.' she said, 'that is the burden.' 'Well, now,' said I, 'will you go and tell Jesus Christ all that you have been telling me? Instead of asking help from man, ask it from Him, and go and fling that burden upon Him. He lives to baptize you with every power you want. Just go and tell Christ that, and leave the whole thing with Him.' I saw no more of her for a few weeks, and the next time I saw her, instead of the face looking as if she were weighed down with a burden, it was positively radiant with joy, reminding one very much of what the good Irishman said when he was asked why he was so happy in Christ. 'O,' he said, 'Christ lightens our heart, and then brightens our face.' It was even so. And I said to her, 'How is it with you now?' 'Ah,' she said, 'I did as you told me; I told Christ what I had told you; and instead of flinging my burden on man, I flung my burden on my Saviour, and He has taken it away. It is gone. I can speak for Him now. My tongue is unloosed, and I can praise God.' Ah, my dear friends, do let us try this more and more. We think of Christ as our Atoner, and we cannot think too much of that but I am afraid we have thought very much too little of the other truth. We want Christ as the Baptizer as well as Atoner. Let us trust Him for that, live on Him for that, every day and every hour; and then we shall be full of joy, full of strength, and we shall find a spring in our Master's service and a power for usefulness that we have never yet enjoyed."

A lady friend in this kingdom, who had entered into the rest of faith in consequence of reading the work on The Baptism of the Holy Ghost, gave me the following facts. The daughter of her pastor, since deceased, an influential Independent minister, had been for years hopelessly broken in spirit in consequence of the sudden demise of her betrothed. Nothing could rouse her, or remove the thick gloom which brooded over her mind. To the sufferer my friend lent the work just mentioned. On reading it, she sought and received "the promise of the Father." The first letter she subsequently wrote to my friend commenced with these words: "I have exchanged my sighing for singing." For several years she had taught a Bible class of twenty to thirty young women, and that with no known spiritual results. Soon after she met her class, under the power of her new life, every member of it became a rejoicing believer in Jesus. By these others were brought in, and at the time when I received the account, upwards of sixty individuals had been converted in connection with that class, and that when no revival influence existed in the church or congregation around her.

In the town of Darlington lives a young lady named Annie Fothergill. As her name and work have been made public before this, we violate no proprieties in speaking of her as we do. Personally, she is one of the most modest, reserved, and unobtrusive ladies we ever met with. "Naturally," she once remarked to me, "I was ridiculously timid." About six years since, she occupied the sphere of governess in a wealthy family in that town. After her conversion, she read the work on The Baptism of the Holy Ghost, sought and received "the promise of the Spirit." On receiving "the anointing," this passage was given to her as the fixed maxim of her life, namely, "Whatsoever He saith to you, do it." Under the influence of this manifestation, the will of Christ, whenever, and by whatsoever means, made known, has been and is the immutable law of all her activity.

Soon after "her enduement of power," while worshipping with her own people, the Friends, on the Sabbath, an opportunity presented itself in which it was manifestly proper for her to give public testimony to the power of Divine grace to which she had been subject. As soon as she thought of doing this, all the timidity of her nature arose, and rendered it seemingly impossible for her to speak at all. Instead of attempting to force matters, as individuals are often, and very unwisely, urged to do, she at once lifted up her heart in silent prayer to Christ, that He would take all that fear away, give her perfect self-possession and readiness to speak or not to speak as He should will. In an instant this prayer was consciously answered, and this perfectly self-possessed readiness to act or speak for Christ, whenever and wherever duty requires, has never left her. As soon as she became conscious that it was the will of Christ that she should speak, she arose and perfectly electrified the audience by her testimony. From that time a new era dawned upon that people. Soon after this, a lady, who had a large Bible class of young women under her instruction in the Sabbath school, having occasion to be absent from the town for several weeks, requested Miss Fothergill to take charge of her class during the interval. This the latter, after prayer for Divine direction, consented to do. On her return, the teacher was surprised and delighted to find every one of her pupils "rejoicing in hope of the glory of the Lord."

At this time, Miss Fothergill received a request from the conductors of the Sabbath school to take charge of a band of about forty lads in the school, lads from twelve to eighteen years of age, and so very lawless that they were called "the awkward squad." Finding it utterly impossible to preserve order among them, or in the school when they were present, their expulsion had been determined on. As a last resort, the request referred to was presented to Miss Fothergill. After reflection and prayer, she consented to undertake the work to which she was called. The first time she met the band, she held their fixed and almost breathless attention for a full hour. She then invited any who might desire religious conversation with her to call at her place at a certain hour the next Tuesday evening. One called and was hopefully converted. The next week more than half a dozen came, and all left rejoicing in God. Soon, that whole "squad" was organised into a praying band of the most devout character. Through these young converts, others were called in, and her room was flooded with converts and inquirers. A larger room being procured, she was requested to hold another meeting, on another evening, for young women. This was done with a like result. Then a children's meeting was appointed; and, lastly, one for the more elderly class. For five years and upwards, these four weekly meetings have been held without interruption. The result has been, that in connection with these meetings some five hundred or more souls have been converted, all but two or three of whom are now walking in the truth. Nor is there any indication whatever of an abatement of the power of the work, the late meetings, as we are informed by a letter just received from Miss Fothergill, being as successful as former ones. She now gives her whole time to religious services, and is called in all directions to help forward the work of God, and everywhere the same power attends her as at home. When helping in a conference at Nottingham, we heard remarks to this effect in respect to her: "There is something mysterious about that young woman. Her voice is feeble; her whole manner the most unassuming and simple conceivable. Yet, while she has great power in drawing believers towards the Higher Life, the impenitent seem to be powerless to resist truth as she presents it." All who, like her, are "full of faith and of the Holy Ghost," will not be just what she is. All such, however, will be endued with power to "shine as lights in the world;" and to "speak unto men to edification, and exhortation, and comfort."

"What is the remedy," asks Dr. Cuyler, "for this fitful, periodic piety, this disgraceful alternation of revival and declension, of foaming fulness and fitful dribble of August drought? Did God decree that His people should run low like summer brooks, and is this the normal condition of the Church which Jesus redeemed unto Himself? Is there not a Divine fulness which can keep a believer always full to the brim, and can make the whole Church as steady in its flow as the majestic currents of the Niagara?"

Yes, reader, there is a remedy, known, full, complete, and permanent, "for this fitful and periodic piety, this disgraceful alternation of revival and declension, of foaming fulness and fitful dribble of August drought." The apostles found for their own life-enduring stability, and revealed for our enduement "with everlasting strength," this sovereign remedy at the Pentecost; and we may find the same, by "waiting the promise of the Father" as they did. Permit me to give an illustrative example in the case of

Charles Reade, Esq., and Family.

At a conference on Scriptural Holiness, held at Cannon Street Hotel, subsequently to that at Oxford, Mr. Reade, by special request, gave an account of a work of grace of wonderful power, which had been for one or two years going on at Black Gang, Isle of Wight, the place of his residence. Mr. Reade had, in years past, occupied an important civil office under the Government in India. Such were his labours and sufferings during the Sepoy Rebellion, that his health entirely broke down, and he was necessitated to return to this country. While residing in the vicinity of London, his entire family, consisting of himself, his wife, sister-in-law, Miss Hamilton, and two daughters by a former marriage, unitedly sought and obtained "the promise of the Father," and were "filled with the Holy Ghost." Immediately, for the first time in their lives, an ever-burning desire took supreme possession of every one of these minds to devote their entire being to the advancement of the cause of Christ. Becoming persuaded that a continued residence in London or its vicinity would be fatal, and being advised by his physician that Black Gang was better adapted to his recovery than any other place known, Mr. Reade, after much prayer for Divine direction, removed there. They found it a small hamlet of less than fifty residences, with no place of religious worship in it or its immediate vicinity, the Sabbath being wholly given up by the men of the place and region around to drinking and amusement. The morning of their first Sabbath the ladies of the family walked out to some distance and worshipped in a small Baptist chapel. On their return they saw four men standing together in front of one of the residences. "There," said one of these ladies, "God has given us a congregation; let us go and speak unto those men the Word of Life." They went forward and proposed to sing, and pray, and speak to them on the subject of their souls' salvation. These men were immediately joined by four others, and all listened most attentively to the services. This was their first congregation. That very week one of the neighbours called to learn what he should do to be saved. Lying upon a sick bed with an open window fronting upon the place of meeting, he had heard all that passed, and was deeply convicted of sin. He was their first convert. During the week, also, one of their eight hearers called and proposed another meeting the next Sabbath, promising a much larger congregation than the first. This was assented to, and from twenty to fifty persons assembled. From this time their congregations continued to multiply, until the regular attendance amounted to four or five hundred, the work of salvation going forward with wonderful power. Now the need of a place for these congregations to meet in was felt, and the boon was sought by special prayer. While they were thus asking, the proprietor of the land, who had ever before absolutely refused to let any denomination have a lot for any such purpose, offered, of his own accord, a most favourable one to Mr. Reade. Thanking the Lord for this first favour, they now asked Him to give them the building needed, they not having the means to erect one. While they were thus praying, a builder, unsolicited, proposed to put up a building with his own means, to do it at simple cost, accepting a small rent for interest, and leaving them to pay the principal at their own convenience. Thus, in an incredibly short time, an ample place for their great and growing congregations was provided.

At the conference referred to, Mr. Reade stated that the converts then numbered several hundreds. "This," he remarked, "is our fixed and united aim, not merely the conversion of sinners, but the total separation of every convert from all strong drink, his entire sanctification, and full enduement of power from on high for holy living and work; and we never rest, nor suffer the convert to rest, until we have evidence that this consummation is fully reached. This great truth, too, we keep fully before our congregations, so that every impenitent sinner knows full well that when he accepts Christ he is not to stop short of the state and form of life referred to." Upon this principle, by this one family, without any foreign aid, the work of God has now been carried forward there for upwards of six years and a half. The result has been the enjoyment of a continuous Pentecost among the converts, and the conversion in that locality and the region immediately round, as we have learned from other authentic sources, and as stated in The christian, "of upwards of eleven hundred souls." As indicative of the character of these converts generally, a Christian lady, who knows the family well, and has spent a considerable time with them at Black Gang, recently made the following statement in a parlour meeting: "As they are about their daily labour, they wear upon their countenances a serenity plainly indicating the perpetual presence of inward gladness and deep joy. Immediately after their conversion, in special 'prayer and supplication,' they 'waited the promise of the Father' until the Sun of Righteousness rose upon them with healing in His wings." As a consequence, "their sun does not go down, neither does their moon withdraw itself." When will converts in every church be thus educated?

Nor has their influence been confined to this locality. The elder Miss Reade has been for some years on a Faith Mission in India, and the same power attends her there as attends the family here. In the Bombay Guardian of March I, a well-known writer from this country, now in India, speaks of "the wondrous blessing that has been given" to Miss Reade and other women, "among them several Americans." "O," exclaims this writer, "may the Lord so pour out His Spirit in these last days, that maidens, daughters, widows, may rise up in adequate numbers and say, 'I can be spared here, I am wanted there; and though the sun shine hot, and I may suffer, I will go. People may wonder at my course, but one hundred millions of my sisters must not be left to suffer, and sin, and perish for ever, while I am enjoying my cherished comforts during the one life God has given me for service.'" Aside from the work immediately around them, Miss Hamilton and the younger Miss Reade are, in the churches, among the most successful evangelists in this kingdom. The christian, in the number referred to, for example, speaks of "a wonderful work of grace," through their instrumentality, in "Porchfield, near Newport." The meetings, of three weeks' continuation, were held in the Congregational church of the place. "Nearly a hundred cases are on record in which credible profession of faith in Christ has been made, some of them of exceeding interest." The reclaiming of backsliders was also a marked feature of the work. "One remarkable feature of the work," says The Christian, "was the systematic visitation in their homes by Misses Reade and Hamilton of those who had shown any spiritual concern at the meetings. Where it was feared that impressions made by the spoken word were not sufficiently deep, the cases were patiently and persistently followed up, with the happiest results. Every family where blessing was known to have been received was called on, and the visitation was also extended for a considerable distance in all directions. These personal endeavours have been greatly owned of God." We state these facts as indicative of the spirit by which the membership of this entire family are actuated. The above is but one example of ingatherings which everywhere attend their labours. Black Gang is one of the places where the crews of shipwrecked vessels often stop for a time. As soon as they come into the place, they find themselves under revival influences of such power that very many of them are immediately converted. The entire crew of one such vessel was converted, the captain excepted. When he arrived at Liverpool, he was so affected with the fact that he thus stood alone, that he returned and stayed as an inquirer until he found peace in believing. "Would God," we exclaim again, "that all the Lord's people were prophets, and that He would put His Spirit upon them!" He will put His Spirit upon you, reader, as He did upon the members of that sanctified family, if you will "wait the promise of the Father" as they did.

Up to quite the meridian of life, J. Woolley, Esq., one of the leading business men of Leeds, had been for many years a member of one of the principal Wesleyan churches in that city. He had been quite active in the Sabbath schools, and other religious services, but had never evinced the possession of power for the edification of believers or the conversion of sinners. At this time he set his entire being upon being "sanctified WHOLLY," and "endued with power from on high" for any service to which Christ might call him. He of course obtained what he sought. "All Leeds soon recognised the wonderful change in that man." Such was the statement to us of a Wesleyan minister who had a full knowledge of the facts. When aiding us in a conference of several days' continuance in a Primitive Methodist chapel in that city, more than two years since, Mr. Woolley said to us that never, in a single instance, since the power of the Spirit had rested upon him, had he addressed a religious meeting at which impenitent persons were present, where more or less of them had not been converted. In that conference a revival commenced which was soon followed by upwards of five hundred conversions, officially attributed to the influence of those meetings, and Mr. Woolley had a chief agency in setting that wave of salvation in motion. Being possessed of a competence, almost his entire time has, for years, been devoted to special labours in the churches for the sanctification of believers and the conversion of sinners, and always and everywhere with the most glorious results. Early in the autumn of 1879 we spent an evening with a son-in-law of Mr. Woolley, a Wesleyan minister, who stated to us that his father-in-law then had specific engagements which would occupy his entire time quite to the close of the year; that a few Sabbaths before that time, he occupied, for one evening, the pulpit of the chapel where he had worshipped for many years, and that as the result of that one discourse, upwards of thirty sinners were converted. Such is the power which everywhere attends the labours of that man of God; a power which ever abides, because it is a "power from on high," and works ever and mightily within the soul. On but one condition, reader, can you by any possibility have "peace as a river, and righteousness as the waves of the sea," and ever-enduring "power with God, and with men." You must, "in prayer and supplication," "wait the promise of the Father" until the mantle of Pentecostal power falls upon you.

Mr. Robinson Watson.

When attending a conference at Nottingham more than three years since, a Wesleyan minister gave us an account of this lay evangelist. "When co-operating with him," said this minister, "in a series of meetings at St. Ives, as we saw the throng crowding into the auditorium, he said to me in a whisper, 'Jesus must have, at least, five hundred of these souls.' I thought that a great number. More than twelve hundred, however, joined the various churches in that one place, as the fruits of those services. In the north of England, the souls converted through his instrumentality number many thousands."

In a parlour meeting in the city of London some three years since, Dr. Smyth, of Maidstone, states the following facts about this man of God; facts which the former obtained from the latter, while co-operating with him in a powerful revival at Tunbridge Wells. For six years after his conversion the religious life of Mr. Watson had been a drearisome pilgrimage over a bog, stumbling here, sinking there, making no visible progress, and bringing almost no fruit to perfection. Then, in all earnestness, in unreserved consecration, and implicit faith in God's word of promise, he sought "salvation to the uttermost," and a full enduement of "power from on high." He spread out before God the promise recorded, Ezek. xxxvi. 25—27, asked that every item of that promise might be fulfilled in his experience, and "tarried in prayer and supplication" until he was distinctly conscious that his prayer was fully answered. From the good hour when the Holy Ghost fell upon and filled him, as He did the apostles "at the beginning," "the word of God had been as a burning fire shut up in his bones." One motive and aim had controlled and energized all his activities—the glory of Christ in "saving souls from death," and "perfecting the saints" of God. As the result of four years' labour under Christ's mantle of power, he now had in his possession a card, with the name and address of the giver upon the same, from each of quite ten thousand individuals, who attributed their conversion to his instrumentality. All this aside from the many thousands of believers who had by the same instrumentality been "led out of darkness into God's marvellous light." The fixed and immutable maxim of "the life which he now lives in the flesh," will fully explain the secret of his undiminished and ever-increasing power. We give the maxim as stated by the Wesleyan minister referred to above. That maxim is taken from the work Baptism of the Holy Ghost, and is this: "Go," "but tarry;" that is, regard the command "Go," as of absolute obligation; and the other, "Tarry until ye are endued with power from on high," and never go but "in the power of the Spirit," as of equal sacredness. Because she has gone forth mainly "at her own charges," and not "in the power of the Spirit," the Church is waging a feeble warfare against the kingdom of darkness. When she shall heed the commands of our great Captain, "Go," "but tarry," and "in prayer and supplication" shall "wait the promise of the Father," until the mantle of power shall fall upon ministers and members in common, the period will be near when "great voices shall be heard in heaven, saying, The kingdoms of this world are become the kingdoms of our Lord, and of His Christ."

The Rev. P. Huet and H. E. Faure, D.D.

These two individuals, the first residing at Goes, and the other at Doesburg, Netherlands, attended the Conference at Brighton. Both, while there, sought and received "an enduement of power from on high," and returned to their native country "full of faith, and of the Holy Ghost." The results of their labours in that country have been truly wonderful. In all directions, they have held, and are holding, conferences and other services, which have been attended with signal manifestations of the power of the Spirit in the sanctification of believers, and the conversion of sinners. As an example of the influence of these services, I give an extract from a letter dated April 2, 1879, containing an account of a conference previously held in Utrecht, the seat of the national University. "Again," says Dr. Faure, "I am permitted to tell you of a deeply interesting and richly blessed conference for the promotion of spiritual life and Scriptural Holiness, which we held last week at the University town of Utrecht. Our most sanguine expectations were surpassed when faith was changed to sight. Floods of light came streaming in upon the Word of God, revealing Christ by the Holy Ghost." A number of theological students, as stated in another connection, received the anointing. "Just let me give you," adds Dr. Faure, "the testimony of a simple farmer's girl: quietly she walks up to the platform, at our request; and, not the least abashed, with undisturbed composure, with beaming smile she tells us, 'Our heart is full of God, our sufficient portion, our full salvation. We are conscious that the nearer we get to God, the quieter it becomes within us. It is constantly as if we are already aware of the holy silence in heaven. Now our souls are surrounded by such stillness, we hear all the more distinctly the converse He, Who is so precious, holds with our souls. What a glory to know, as our beloved Saviour revealed it, that God's nature is fatherly; never will the day come that His paternal heart will not throb with tenderness towards us! How kind of God to have given us His only Son and in Him Himself, and that He now also gives us the Spirit of His Son in our hearts, whereby we more and more clearly discern the things that are freely given us of God! In our Jesus the fulness of the Godhead dwells, and His Spirit takes out of Him to communicate to us. How unspeakably happy we are, now the same Spirit, who dwelt in our Jesus, also abides in us; the selfsame life that throbs in Him, also pulsates in our veins; now we cannot do otherwise than live for the glory of Jesus! The most precious enjoyments of God we are prepared to surrender for His glory, not that we could do without Him for one single instant, but merely to point out that we do not prize the gift above the Giver. We want nothing but Jesus only. When called upon to suffer for Him, we rejoice, being prepared to fill up the measure of His sufferings, for we know that in everything we are well pleasing to our Jesus.'"

One of these brethren translated into the language of that country my work on Christian Perfection, and the other, that on The Baptism of the Holy Ghost; and both volumes are being extensively read by the people there, and by their missionaries in foreign lands. I am quite sure that my readers will be much gratified, as well as edified, in perusing the following testimony of Dr. Faure, and his friend and fellow labourer, the Rev. J. G. Smitt.

"Doesburg, Netherlands, November 20th, 1879.

"BELOVED FATHER MAHAN,—Cheerfully do I confirm your testimony, as set forth in Divine Life, with regard to the baptism of the Holy Spirit as the one thing needful, and, glory to God, also attainable, for a consistent and all-overcoming life.

"When I attended the ever memorable Brighton Conference, I had already believed on the Lord Jesus Christ for upwards of thirty years. I need not describe to you the condition I was in all those weary years, as it has been often graphically depicted by various correspondents in your columns. Far be it from me to underrate the Lord's gracious workings in, and manifestations to, my soul, and the measure of blessing He was pleased to bestow upon my ministry. I do not believe in extremes, and therefore shall not say that my Christian life was 'altogether a failure.' But I am thoroughly conscious that it was not the thing; ups and downs, ebb and flow, sinning and repenting; no unbroken rest, no continual trust, no perfect peace.

"I may not encroach upon your space; otherwise I could tell you most touching particulars of the Lord's gracious providence in bringing me to Brighton. It was all His gentle dealing; to Him be all the glory. The Lord Himself brought me to that conference. I came in contact with many eminent brethren, and much did I enjoy their ministry and labour of love; yet from the very moment of my arrival I had the distinct consciousness that not from man, or by man, but from the Lord only, straight and direct, I must receive this gracious boon my whole soul was in quest of. And so it came to pass. Only on Wednesday, 2nd of June, I arrived at Brighton, where I was hospitably received and entertained by a dear Christian family from Sunderland. On Friday morning, seventh day of conference, to myself, and, I believe, many others, the great day of that Christian feast, whilst engaged in returning thanks after breakfast, just on the point of proceeding to the morning meeting, there and then I became conscious of the water of life flowing into my soul as one continuous stream. And up to this moment it has never abated, but become in me 'a fountain of water springing up into everlasting life.' I live no more; Christ liveth in me.

"Of course, on our return to this country, we could not withhold our testimony, but forthwith became witnesses to this overcoming life. My fellow labourer in Natal, Pastor Huet, now became my fellow witness in the Netherlands. At one of our first conferences our beloved brother, the Rev. J. G. Smitt, of Amsterdam, was brought to see and realise this same blessing. Along with others he also has become our yoke-fellow in the Lord's service. It is really wonderful the blessing the Lord has vouchsafed especially to his testimony throughout the country. I am happy to be able to enclose his account of the baptism he obtained. I requested him to pen it for Divine Life.

"May God spare you, even in old age, to be fresh and blooming, and still to bring forth much fruit!—Yours in the bonds of the Gospel,

"H. E. FAURE, D.D."

Rev. j. G. Smitt.

"GLADLY, beloved Brother, do I bear witness to the 'second grace' bestowed on me. Upwards of sixteen years ago I obtained the 'first grace' in the remission of sin. Now I have also, through faith, been made partaker of deliverance from sin. Staunch Calvinistic preacher as I formerly was, I always used to teach that after grace once obtained, he was the greatest saint who looked upon himself as most guilty, either by confession of newly committed sin, or by deeper insight into the depravity of his heart.

"But I have been led to see that this doctrine of sanctification is a mere human opinion, which can readily be entertained without exerting the slightest influence on our life; for either it evaporates into a theory about Christ, with His holy life upon earth, His holiness being imputed to us, or it merely retains its preventive influence from sin as long as tenderness of feeling lasts under acknowledgment of guilt and renewed acceptance of pardon. But fortunately I have now become better informed. Christ is now my sanctification through faith; not merely in contemplation, but abiding in me through His Holy Spirit, whom I received of God, the Spirit of promise, who made me partaker of the Divine nature by inheritance of the promises, and conformed me to the image of the Son of God, our Elder Brother. Now is everlasting life my conscious possession, and through the ever-increasing knowledge of Jesus, and in Him of God, the image of my Saviour is not so far removed from me as before. Now I know that at His appearing I shall be like unto Him, not suddenly made, but be as He is. Not a single promise is too grand for me. I can boldly apply them to myself as my lawful property, specially written for me.

"But how was I brought to this?

"As regards the gradually fuller stream of this Divine life, by increased knowledge of the things that are freely given us of God, this is what I daily experience. As to the decisive step, however, that was no more than a single step into the land of rest. When first I heard of these things some five years ago, how the witnesses to this life spoke with so much joy of their experience, I looked upon them, not wishing, however, to judge harshly, as very superficial, not only in their doctrine of sin, but also of salvation. Ah, how very wise in his own conceit even a minister of the Gospel can sometimes be! After having followed the Master so long, like the disciples, I had to become like a child, not only to see, but also to enter the kingdom of God. My wisdom continued till I heard two brethren, who had attended the Brighton Conference some six months previously, and there received the baptism of the Spirit, bear witness to a higher life than is experienced by believers generally.

"The first day I said of them, that all they proclaimed with such glow of love was nothing new, that I myself had preached the identical doctrine, for years and years, of sanctification by faith. However, I returned the second day, to take further knowledge of what was going on, and, praise God, I did not turn myself away; more and more I became conscious that the witnessing brethren possessed something more than what I had heretofore contented myself with. I began to acknowledge it to myself and to confess it to my God. And after, on the third day, seeing this life the beloved brethren bore witness to, more and more clearly manifested in Holy Scripture, I prayed in believing expectation that the Lord would grant me the same fulness of life. That evening I laid myself to rest expecting that something was in store for me. My soul was full of longing, yet quietly waiting on the Lord. Thus I fell asleep, quietly and calmly as never before, till the fourth watch of the night. I was then roused out of sleep by God Himself or by His angel. One word of God after another came flowing into my soul. It was everything to me. I believed in the very same way as, years ago, for the remission of sins, with this difference, however, that I now distinctly experienced, that this was more than an operation of the Spirit upon me. It was the entrance of the Spirit Himself into me; not something passing, but a perennial existence.

"With special clearness the word of the Lord came to my mind, 'Like as the bridegroom rejoices over the bride, thy God will rejoice over thee.' The bridegroom is not satisfied, nor fully happy, unless the bride surrenders herself entirely; so my Lord could now only rejoice over me, now I had entirely surrendered myself to Him. He has spoken to me that His joy might abide with me, and my joy be full. And up to this moment, now for more than three years and a half, nothing, and no one, has taken my joy from me. Like Abraham, rich in faith, I also realise the promise of my God fulfilled: 'Thou shalt be a blessing.'

"As there is nothing lacking to my own salvation, it is now my joy to be a blessing to others, to hundreds, yea, to thousands. This is my trust and full expectation according to the word of my Lord, 'I have chosen you, that ye should go and bring forth fruit, and that your fruit should remain.'

"All glory to God and the Lamb, who bought us and washed us from our sins in His blood, and made us kings and priests unto God!—Your fellow witness to the Divine Life,

"J. G. SMITT."

"To Rev. Dr. H. E. Faure."

United States and Canada.

When we turn from Europe to the United States and Canada, the countries more pervaded with this influence than any other in the world, what do we find there?

We find that the revivals, which, for years past, have rendered that country the "light of the world," are visibly under the influence of pastors, evangelists, male and female, and members of churches, who have "waited the promise of the Father," until they have gone to their work, as Christ did to His, "in the power of the Spirit." What were all these individuals before "the Holy Ghost fell upon them"? They were as weak as other believers. Now "he" or she, "that is feeble among them is as David." One of those women, Mrs. Van Cott, has just been necessitated, by exhaustion of physical vitality, to suspend labours for a season, after fourteen years of uninterrupted exertion, the result of which has been—apart from the many thousands of believers who have been lifted out of darkness into sunlight—the addition of more than thirty thousand converts to the churches. What mighty power the Spirit of God is exerting through that young evangelist, Harrison! Quite eleven hundred have been added to one church in Philadelphia, and seven hundred to Dr. Talmage's church in Brooklyn, in a few months, through the agency of this one young man. In his experience and life, as a believer in Jesus, there were, as he states, three stages: "First, conversion; second, baptism of power; third, full assurance of faith." His conversion was radical and thorough. But for two years "he had more noise than power." Then, "with all his heart, and with all his soul," he sought until he received the "baptism of power," and with this "the full assurance of faith." Hence his wonderful moral and spiritual power. Major Cole and his wife were once members of my own church. Who would have suspected, before their anointing, that they would be what they now are? Dr. Earlle had no special power as a preacher before "the Holy Ghost fell upon" him. As soon as he went forth "in the power of the Spirit," however, conversions under his preaching numbered quite five thousand yearly. With Mr. Hammond's early history I am unacquainted. But what was Dr. Pentecost, compared with what he now is—hardly second to Mr. Moody—before "the Spirit of the Lord God rested upon" him?

With regard to his own preaching, before his enduement of power from on high, Mr. Moody made this statement in a Sabbath-school convention in Illinois, some years ago. "I preached, and I preached, but it was beating against the air. A good woman in Chicago, whom I expect soon to see, used to say, 'Mr. Moody, you don't seem to have power in your preaching." So it is, as far as spiritual power is concerned, with the preaching and teaching of all who do not "speak in demonstration of the Spirit and of power." Having "been taught the way of the Lord more perfectly," Mr. Moody first confessed his own deficiency, and then sought "the promise of the Spirit." "I requested this woman and a few others," he says, "to come and pray with me every Friday at four o'clock. Ah, how piteously I prayed to God that He might fill the empty vessel!" "How much more shall your heavenly Father give the Holy Spirit to them that ask Him!"

The following is Mr. Moody's account of the manner and form in which he received the anointing:

"After the fire in Chicago," he says, "I was in New York city, and, going into the Bank on Wall Street, it seemed as if I felt a strange and mighty power come over me. I went up to the hotel, and there, in my room, I wept before God. I cried, 'O my God, stay Thy hand.' He gave me such a fulness that it seemed more than I could contain."

The reader will notice three essential facts here: that, as was true of the disciples "at the beginning," the blessing was sought and waited for some time before "the anointing" was received; that when it did come, it came in both cases alike suddenly, as in a moment; and, lastly, that it was characterised in each instance by such manifestation of the Divine glory, and love, and grace to the mind, as filled the mind "with all the fullness of God." Such, in their essential features, we believe, are the manner and form in which this baptism is received. As soon as the believer receives power, the Holy Ghost coming upon him, a new and marked era of light, liberty, and power occurs in his experience.

Effects of this Baptism thus received.

Of the results of this baptism thus received, let us hear Mr. Moody himself. "May God forgive me," he says, "if I should speak in a boastful way, but I do not know a sermon I have preached since but God has given me some soul. O, I would not be back where I was four years ago for all the wealth of this world. If you would roll it at my feet, I would kick it away like a football. I seem a wonder to some of you, but I am a greater wonder to myself than I am to any one else. These are the very same sermons I preached in Chicago, word for word. It is not new sermons, but the power of God. It is not a new Gospel, but the old Gospel with the Holy Ghost of power. Amen."

Some time prior to the change in Mr. Moody's experience, a Christian, a layman, in this country, while riding in the cars, no one being in the compartment with him, read a tract on the "Higher Life," and there, upon his knees, sought and obtained the "anointing." On a subsequent visit to New York, U.S., this individual met Mr. Moody just after the latter had obtained "such fulness." That interview brought Mr. Moody to this country—a visit followed by those revivals which fixed the attention of all Christendom. Had he come here before he received the "anointing," he would have "preached and preached," but it "would have been beating the air." Now, "when preaching the very same sermons, word for word," as before, but speaking "in the power of the Spirit," tens of thousands are in short periods "turned unto the Lord." Under this same "enduement of power from on high," sought and received anew, as exigencies required, have those wondrous revivals since occurred in the United States, and that late unparalleled work of God in Chicago, the work in which Mr. Moody has, as he never did before, made the doctrine of the Baptism of the Holy Ghost a fundamental element and characteristic of all his teachings.

In a discourse delivered in Chicago, in the winter of 1876, Mr. Moody gives the following account of the causes which led his mind to this great subject. The text of the discourse was Acts xix. 2, "Have ye received the Holy Ghost since ye believed?" "How many people in this audience," asked Mr. Moody, "would know how to answer that question if it was put to them personally? 'Have ye received the Holy Ghost since ye believed?' A great many of us, if we were asked, would not know what it meant. I was a Christian some years before I knew anything about it. I remember once, in Brooklyn, speaking at a Sunday school meeting. I thought there was a good deal of feeling in the meeting, and on going out, feeling perfectly satisfied, an old man touched me on the shoulder, and in a trembling voice and with tears in his eyes said, 'Young man, when you speak again, honour the Holy Ghost.' I didn't know what he meant, and went to other schools, but this always kept ringing in my ears, 'Young man, when you speak again, honour the Holy Ghost.' Months went on, and still I kept thinking about this, and wondering what the old man meant. I think I have found it out. My friends, there is a good deal of work among us that goes for nought, because we don't honour the Holy Ghost. Let me say right here that I have never stood before an audience honouring the Holy Ghost but He has heard me, and the work has been deep and thorough, because the work has been done in the Spirit. All that is done in the Spirit will be lasting, but all that is done in the flesh will pass away. The workers should be led in all their efforts by the Holy Ghost, and their work will then be successful."

Speaking of the personality of the Holy Ghost, he says: "I was a Christian about ten years before I found it out. I remember an old divine getting up in Farwell Hall—not this one, but the one before the fire—and he spoke about Christians honouring the Holy Ghost. He said that very few people thought He was as much a person as Christ. I got my Bible, and soon I saw he was right. Now, just turn to the fourteenth chapter of John and the sixteenth verse, and we read: 'I will pray the Father, and He shall give you another Comforter, that He may abide with you for ever.' If the Spirit was not a person, Christ would not have spoken about Him as He did—'That He may abide with you for ever.' Then we go on: 'Even the Spirit of Truth, Whom the world cannot receive, because it seeth Him not, neither knoweth Him: but ye know Him; for He dwelleth with you, and shall be in you.' Three times in that verse Christ speaks of the Holy Spirit as 'Him,' and in the two verses we find Him referred to three times as 'He.' It is He, Him, Him, He, all through those two verses. The Son of Man knew Him; that's the reason. Again we read in the twenty-sixth verse: 'But the Comforter, Which is the Holy Ghost, Whom the Father will send in My name, He shall teach you all things, and bring all things to your remembrance, whatsoever I have said unto you."

Fruits in Missionary Lands.

I have already noticed the fact, that the American Board of Commissioners for Foreign Missions, more than forty years since, dismissed two of their missionaries for no other reason than because they had avowed their belief in the doctrine of Entire Sanctification. I am now permitted to give an example of the influence of this doctrine in connection with this society. A short time before I left America, in 1874, I heard that two theological students, Messrs. Stevens and Watkins, connected with the Oak Park Seminary, had sought and obtained the baptism of the Holy Ghost, and that, after much prayer for Divine direction, they had fixed upon Western Mexico as the field of their future labours. To this field, under the Board referred to, they were sent in the year 1872. They had been there but one or two years, before their success excited jealousy, and Mr. Stevens was set upon and murdered by a mob openly instigated by the Catholic priests. Amid great peril of life and limb, Mr. Watkins continued the work. The following is the account which (in 1877) we received of this mission of only some five years' continuance:

"As to the number of converts, the result in the mission to Western Mexico is greater, for the labour expended, than in any other mission of the Board. The two churches organised are unusually devoted to Christian work. And now at one of the out-stations 472 persons await the coming of the missionary to make profession of their faith. There is only one missionary on the ground. Three more are needed at once."

We subsequently learned, through the American papers, that five preachers were needed to occupy important vacant positions connected with this mission. I hesitate not to express the solemn conviction, that had the missionaries connected with this Board gone forth to their missions, as these young men, went to theirs, "in the power of the Spirit," the membership of the churches gathered in would now number, not some fifteen thousand, but millions. Take the following facts in illustration.

The Rev. William Taylor, "in the power of the Spirit," spent, as he states, seven months among the Kaffirs of Africa, speaking to the people through an interpreter. During this period "the missionaries," he says, "reported the conversion to God of seven thousand Kaffirs," Nor did the work abate after he left. We recently read of one native minister there, for example, who never addresses an audience without from two to twelve, or more, being converted. It is in this country that an aged female is going from village to village, and gathering souls by scores and hundreds into the kingdom of God. When will the Church of God come to understand wherein her great strength lies? How long will she suffer herself to be shorn of her strength by the great enemy of God and man?

The Rev. J. F. Frow, of Bombay, asked an intelligent Hindu why he so frequently attended Mr. Taylor's meetings there. "Sahib," he replied, "there is a very mysterious work going on here in connection with his meetings. Many men whom I knew to be drunkards, swearers, and dishonest men, tyrannical men, too, who were before always abusing the natives in their employ, have been entirely changed at these meetings. They are now all teetotallers; they are honest and true in their dealings, and speak nothing but words of kindness to every body; and instead of hating and abusing their servants, they show real love and sympathy for them, and are all the time trying to do them good. I have looked into these things closely, and know that what I tell you, sahib, is true; and this kind of work is going on all the time at Padri Taylor sahib's meetings. I don't understand it, but I feel so anxious to know more about it that I can't keep away."

At an important Conference held in Shanghai, China, in 1877, the Rev. J. H. Taylor, Editor of China's Millions, addressed the following living words to the missionaries assembled: "Talk theory to the heathen, and they are generally unmoved: tell them merely of blessings in store for the future, and they are often too sceptical or too occupied with the pressure of present necessities to heed what you have to say. But, as I remarked yesterday, tell your audience that you have an infallible help for every opium-smoker among them, for every drunkard, for every fornicator, for every gambler; that you proclaim a Saviour who has never once failed to save immediately any soul that really trusted in Him, both from the power of sin and from its eternal consequences; and you will soon see that that Gospel is good news to your hearers, can command attention, and will accomplish the mightiest changes of which the mind of man can conceive or the heart of man can desire.

"But so to preach Christ we must ourselves be filled with the Spirit, be abiding in Christ, be conscious of the fulness and greatness of His great salvation. The man who is consciously overcome by sin, who habitually succumbs to temptation, who is only half saved himself, cannot preach this Gospel; and this, brethren, I confess with shame was the experience of half my life. But when conscious of the indwelling of an almighty Saviour, we can preach Christ, and are not afraid to speak good of HIS name.

"I may not tarry to enumerate many instances of the effect of this kind of preaching in China, but I will refer to one. A few years ago this kind of personal testimony, given on a missionary journey by my friend Mr. Stevenson (then of Shao-hing, now in Bhamo), was blessed to the conversion of a literary graduate of more than ordinary ability. This man went out and preached the truth in his own native district with undoubted faith and in the power of the Holy Ghost. No half-and-half Gospel did he proclaim; an immediate, and perfect, and eternal salvation to the worst of sinners was his message. It happened that a notorious character was passing by, a man who was the terror of the neighbourhood, the head of the gamblers of the district. His house, or rather houses, were indeed a gambling hell; sin in all its forms was practised there. He made much money by his business, and none cared or dared to interfere with it. But this message reached his heart: he said, 'If Jesus can do this for me, He shall.' There and then he accepted Him, and went home, closed his place, sent the bad characters away, and never another game of chance, I believe, was played there. The conversion of that one man has been a well understood testimony in the neighbourhood and for miles around, and many other needy ones have come, not in vain, to the same fountain, and drunk of its life-giving streams. O my brethren, we want more faith in Christ, and in His glorious Gospel: it is yet the power of God unto salvation to every one that believeth.

"To the question, 'How shall missionary operations be conducted?' my answer is," said Mr. Taylor, "'But ye shall receive power, after that the Holy Ghost is come upon you: and ye shall be witnesses unto Me both in Jerusalem, and in all Judaea, and in Samaria, and unto the uttermost part of the earth.' The natural and reasonable order exhibited in this passage needs no further comment."

My space will allow me to refer to but one other case, the church of Christ under the pastorate of the Rev. Griffith John, in Hankow, China. Paul gives this testimony in respect to the saving influence of the church in Thessalonica: "But from you sounded out the word of the Lord not only in Macedonia and Achaia, but also in every place your faith to Godward is spread abroad; so that we need not to speak anything." So from this one church has the Gospel been sounding out for years past in all northern China. No other church in missionary lands is more frequently, or as frequently, referred to in missionary intelligence as this. Why has this church been thus favoured? The following is its pastor's account of the matter:—

In a prayer-meeting held some years ago in the city of Hankow, "one of the deacons," says the pastor, "made the following remark: 'Why should we not do more for Christ? There is Wei, of Kian Kan. As a man there is nothing very remarkable about him; his, appearance is that of an ordinary packman; his mental powers are not extraordinary, many of us excel him in the gift of utterance; he is not a scholar, in this respect there are men among us superior to him. There is nothing commanding in his position in life he may be seen any day in the streets of Hankow with his bundle of cloth upon his shoulders. Yet we all feel that there is something wonderful about the man. What is it? I will tell you what it is. The man is full of the Holy Ghost. That is the secret.'" This Wei is a native of Kian Kan, some forty miles from Hankow, and "spends his time partly in cultivating the fields, and partly in selling cloth in the streets of Hankow." To all he meets, whether high or low, Pagan or Christian, he has a word to speak for Christ, and his word is always with power. "He is a thorough believer," says this missionary, "in the Holy Ghost, and never fails to speak of the importance of prayer for the Divine influence to illumine the mind and change the heart." He urges "all to seek the baptism of the Holy Ghost, assuring them that no human teacher, though he be a missionary, can do more than speak to the ear, and that the Spirit alone can speak to the heart." As the result of the remarks of the deacon above referred to, meetings were held every day for a week for prayer for one specific blessing, the baptism of the Holy Ghost. The result was wonderful. "The week," says Mr. John, "was fraught with unspeakable blessing to the native church. Many a soul was filled with the Holy Ghost in a way it was never filled before. Christ became then much more real as a living Saviour to many a heart, and they speak of His preciousness in a way they never did before." They afterwards spoke of their experience as corresponding with that of Wei, in a liberty and power to speak for Christ to all around them. The same results attend this baptism among all converts in missionary countries.

From that time onward, there has been an uninterrupted work of grace in that church, and in connection with agencies going out therefrom. Take the following fact in illustration. "At the close of one of my services," says Mr. John, "a man followed me into the vestry, and addressed me thus: 'I have just heard you say that Christ can save a man from his sins. Can He save me?' 'What sins have you?' I asked. 'Every sin you can think of,' was the reply. Then, reckoning his sins on the tips of his fingers, he said, 'I am an opium-smoker, gambler, fornicator, and everything that is bad. Can Christ save me?' I said, 'Yes, Christ can save you.' 'When?' he asked again. 'Now,' was the emphatic reply, 'if you will trust Him for this salvation.' We both prayed, I leading, he following. He was converted there and then, I believe, and at once became one of the most earnest Christians I have ever known. Though not employed as a native agent, he is ever making known the way of salvation to his acquaintances. His Gospel is Christ the Saviour from sin, and the evidence of Christ's power to save adduced by him is the fact that he himself has been thus delivered from the dominion of his own sins by simple faith in the Redeemer. Several have been brought into the Church through the instrumentality of this man."

In the April number of the Evangelical Magazine and Missionary Chronicle, there appears from the Rev. G. John, who preached the discourse which led to the conversion referred to, a long communication giving an account of a powerful work of God in the district of Hiau-Kan, under the influence of this convert, and two native evangelists, Wei and Siau: Wei, as it appears, having left his business as pedlar of cloth, and become an evangelist.

The name of the convert referred to is Siu-Kin-Shan. He was fifty years of age at the time of his conversion. "His first twenty-five years were spent at home, where he was regarded as one of the most immoral and reckless men in that part of the country. He then joined the army, and in due time was promoted to the rank of a centurion." In this state he continued for fourteen years, "having slain with his own hand about thirty long-haired rebels near his native village." "He got tired of the army," and in Hankow "spent most of his time in riot and debauchery." This individual, who, in connection with Wei and Siau, has been, as we have said, the chief instrument in the work under consideration, is the man who said of himself just before his conversion, "I am an opium-smoker, a fornicator, a gambler, a drunkard, and an unfilial son, and everything that is bad;" the individual who, through faith in Christ, was in an instant saved from all his vices and sins, and, like Saul of Tarsus, was not only made "a new creature," but "a burning and shining light." This event occurred in 1875. In 1877 Siu consented to "take charge of the hospital on behalf of opium-smokers" in Hankow, and "accepted on account of the opportunities it would afford him of promoting the physical and spiritual well-being of his fellow men." "In this capacity," says the writer, "he has given us the utmost satisfaction." As the lower parts of the hospital were flooded during a part of the summer, Siu obtained leave to visit his native village, that he might "preach the Gospel to his clansmen." On his return he informed his employers that many of the villagers had abandoned idolatry to become Christians. On visiting the place, Mr. John "found matters just as Siu had described them." The avowed reason of this change of mind in regard to the Christian religion was "the change it had wrought in the character of Siu-Kin-Shan." They had known him as one of the worst of reprobates. "Now he appears before them clothed and in his right mind—a kind husband, a loving father, and a peace-loving neighbour." On his return to Hankow, "Siau went and spent a few weeks in the place." The account he gave on his return, says the writer, "brought vividly to my mind the scene of Antioch, when Paul and Barnabas gathered the church together and rehearsed all that God had done with them." On visiting them again he says," Now the children seemed to have their little heads crammed with the lessons taught them by the evangelists Siau and Wei." Again, "I do not regard it as over-sanguine to expect to see the whole population (three to four hundred souls) in the church within two years." This is but an example of the character of the work which is going on in the other villages around through the labours of these evangelists, who go forth to their work "in the power of the Spirit."

"The work in Hankow is making solid progress. When missionaries and native Christians from other parts pass through the place, they seem much struck with the aspect of things. Every Communion Sunday some are received into the church, and we have always a number of inquirers on hand. There is no excitement about it, but a quiet, steady moving forward."

Converts gathered in under a ministry and church thus baptized, instead of sliding backwards, become "epistles of Christ known and read of all men."

Of one such convert, Mr. John gives the following account: "I may mention the case of a scholar from a distant part of the country, who was baptized in October last, as a remarkable instance of conversion. More than three years since, this man, named Tung Tsing-Kwan, spent some weeks in the hospital, became interested in the truth, and provided himself with copies of all the religious and scientific books which he could purchase at Hankow. Being a BA., he had to attend the Triennial Examinations, held at Wu-Chang, in the autumn of last year. On his arrival at this place the second time, he made himself known to me as a believer in Christ; and whilst the examinations were going on, he attended the Sunday services regularly. At his request, and with the hearty concurrence of the church, he was baptized just before returning to his distant home. About two years ago he sent me a very encouraging report of the work as carried on by himself in his native district, and begged me to send one of the native brethren to inspect it, and to render him the needful aid for a few days. In response to this welcome request, an evangelist was sent, who, when he returned, brought with him news which greatly cheered all our hearts. Being anxious to encourage this young Christian in his work, I paid him a visit myself last month. On my arrival at his home, several of the villagers came to welcome me, and among them some of those who had been taught the truth by Mr. Tung. They were all very friendly, and, so far as I could judge, sincere believers in what they had learned. Two or three of them had made excellent progress, whilst not a few had acquired a fair knowledge of the fundamental facts of Christianity. In Mr. Tung himself I found more than my somewhat sanguine hopes had led me to expect. He is a truly enlightened Christian, and uncompromising in the profession of his faith; whilst, as a man, he is universally respected. He is known in the whole district as a follower of the Lord Jesus Christ, and as ever active in his efforts to propagate the faith."

Of the Sabbath services, which were held in the open air, Mr. John thus speaks: "After breakfast we had Divine service in the little chapel, where we were joined by several of the villagers. This service was conducted with the utmost propriety. No sooner was this over than we commenced our open-air work. The congregation began to assemble about eleven A.M., it grew larger and larger till about ten P.M., and it was midnight before our work was done. Whilst we were preaching, our host himself attended to the audience, leading them to their seats and serving them with tea. Whilst we were preaching, a number of scholars made their appearance.

. . . . We went out again, and talked to them till about ten P.M. I tried then to get them to leave, but it was useless. They wanted to hear more. I then suggested to Siau the advisability of our taking a walk in the fields, hoping that the people might disperse during our absence. In this also I was mistaken, for when we returned we found a large congregation there still, and Tung himself holding forth. I listened awhile, but finding that he was doing very well, I passed on and retired into my bedroom." "About eleven o'clock we assembled in the little chapel for worship, and at midnight I had the joy of baptizing Tung's mother, wife, and two children, together with a young man from a village hard by. it was thought better for the rest to wait till my next visit. Such was the happy close of this hard day's work—one of the hardest I have ever had in my life. The Gospel had never been preached before by a foreign missionary in the whole of this region, nor a baptism administered, and hence the interest manifested in us and our work was very considerable. Not the least disturbance, however, took place; the people seemed unusually well disposed; and many listened to our message with marked attention. This is greatly to be ascribed to the esteem in which Tung is held by all his neighbours. He is a scholar, and a man of some means, whilst his natural disposition is kind and courteous. I was sorry when the hour of parting came. I have never met a scholar like him, so sincere, so straightforward, so fearless, and withal so humble. I left his home glorifying God in him."

In a letter bearing date July 16, 1880, Mr. John says, "Some of your works have been much blessed to my soul. The Baptism of the Holy Ghost I have read more than once, being one of the first books recommended to me by one who has become my wife since. On the subject of Scriptural holiness, I have read also Out of Darkness into Light with intense enjoyment and great profit. This book was read aloud by myself, my wife, and a brother missionary, on Sunday evenings when our day's work was done."

"I am not ashamed of the Gospel of Christ," the Gospel in the form in which I hold and teach it: "for it is the power of God unto salvation to every one that believeth."

"Oh, sacred union with the Perfect Mind!

Transcendent bliss, which Thou alone canst give!

How blest are they, this pearl of price who find,

And, dead to earth, have learnt in Thee to live.

"Thus, in Thine arms of love, O God, I lie,

Lost, and for ever lost, to all but Thee,

My happy soul, since it hath learnt to die,

Hath found new life in Thine infinity.

"Oh, go, and learn this lesson of the Cross:

And tread the way, which saints and prophets trod,

Who, counting life, and self, and all things loss,

Have found, in inward death, the life of God."

PROFESSOR UPHAM.

SUPPLEMENTARY

APPENDIX

added by the Editor

INDEX

Of

SUBJECTS, PEOPLE,

AND

PUBLICATIONS.

INDEX OF SUBJECTS

Ability,

Moral, Natural 23, 82-6, 140-1, 168-9

Abolitionist 137

Absudity 138

Accountability 147

Adoption into the family of God 45

Adrian College 183-5, 276

Afflictions 261

Affrica, Kaffirs of 300

Agitation, inward 53

Amalgamation, doctrine of 122

Amusements 54, 90

Anti-slavery 122-33

Apostasy 151, 158

Apostles, evangelism before the death of the 272

Arbitrary Government 127-9

Arminianism 138

Assurance of hope 7, 54-5

Atonement, General, Limited 23, 83-6, 139

Backslider 8, 66, 73, 91, 94, 158, 288

Baptism of the Holy Ghost 49, 51, 106, 171-2, 191-2, 201-18,

238-43, 278-307

Effects of 297-307

How received, essential elements 297

Baptism of fire 191-2, 280

Baptism, mode and candidates of water 65, 161

Bible, inspiration, authority 10

Biblical Interpretation, Professor of 108-9

Biblical Literature, Professor of 135

Blackness of Darkness 43

Blind guide 65

Body of sin, the 200

Canada 296

Calvinism,

Adam representing the race 139

Absurdity of preaching repentance 20

Choice, lack of 141-4

Commandments, cannot keep perfect 70, 194-5

Consequences of the Fall 19, 82-6

Contradictions, incompatible 88-90

Conversion, agony of when point of 29

Decrees, doctrine of Divine 82-90

Different from all other faiths, how 141

Fall away, cannot finally 70

Five points 163

Calvinism continued

God's Wrath 15, 138

Based on three reasons 19-20, 81-2

Imputation of sin 139

Impressions of; Convictions 15-18

Influences of the Spirit 23

Infants, state in death 20, 21

Moral Responsibility of all events on God 19, 86-8

Mystery 87-6

Necessity 24, 85, 144-8

Obligation, no sense of duty 15, 16, 144-8

Original sin 139

Predestination 82

Reprobation, Doctrine of 21

Schools, different and opposite 22, 82-8 113, 139

Hyper-Calvinists 23, 24, 82-7

Hopkinsianism 22-25, 82-7

Divine Efficency Scheme 24, 82-6

Training in 9

Calling 54, 63

Calvinistic, straitest circle 12

Carnal babes in Christ 205, 266-8

Caste 175-8

Catechism, Calvinistic 12, 18

Catechism, error of memorizing church 59

Catholic Priests 300

Character, Christian 54

Chatham Street Chapel (in N.Y.) 159, 170

Childlike faith 50

China 301-3

Christ,

Dependence upon, our 169-72

Dying on the cross 45

Know 267

Manifestation of 67, 200-13, 223

Presence 223

Supplier of all needs 216-7

Temptations should be taken to 52-3

Christians,

Blessedness of 33

Real 194

Christian Perfection 219, 248, 280

Christian Warfare 199, 212

Christian experiences, two different 280

Church, primitive 146-8, 234-5, 279

Church not a hospital 49

Cholera in the U.S., first era of 117

Circus 194

Classes in society 175-8

Classical sermons 94-5

Code of laws 182

Co-education of the sexes 136, 180, 183

College,

Discipline 190

Life 101-10, 173-92

Communion 115

Congregational Church at Pittsford 119

Conscience, 216

Peace of 57

Conscience void of offence, a 79, 130, 143

Consciousness 143

Conversation,

Immediate 303

Spiritual 80

Converts, 50, 150, 158, 266, 280-307

Instruction to 63

Creed 75, 81, 167

Customs, arbitrary 175-8

Deeds done in the body 47, 86

Despondency 43

Disciples, instructions of old 63-4

Disciplining Believers 170

Disfellowshipped 120-3

Dispensation, present 206-8

Divine,

Approval 259, 263

Influence 203

Life 9

Manifistation 158

Presence 203

Standard 253-5

Divinity of Chrst 109

Doctrine 76, 266

Doctrine, advancement of Christian 24

Doctrine, definition of Christian 61-4

Doctrine of Calvinsim 141

Dogma, 186

Iron bands of theological 70

Doom, desert of 44-8

Doom, eternal 138

Draconian code 125

Duty 133, 142

Dying, idea of 31, 34-5

Death, near 31

Deceived professor of religion 112

Denominational factions 161

Desires 52, 259

Despotic government 126

Dyspeptic, physical and spiritual 58-9

Early Church 146-9

Ecclesiastical History, Professor of 108-9

Education 55, 61-4

Education of the sexes, joint 120

Election, Doctrine of 21, 82-90, 138-9

Entire Sancitfication (see Sancification, Entire)

Eradication of sin 54

Error 266...

Evangelism 280-307

Evangelists 159

Example, following 58

Faith 171, 196, 219-31, 243, 263,

277-307

Semi-faith 51, 195-6

Fall of Adam 15, 19, 47

Fatalism (see Necessitarian) 143-9

Favor with men 114

Feeding the flock 213-5

Fire in New York City, great 188

First Grace 294

First love 49

Fixed, doom 43

Foolish talking 103

Free Trade Hall, Manchester 98

Freedom of the Will 144-9, 168-9

Fruit, bring forth 62-3, 266

Fullness of God, filled with all the 49, 51

Full Assurance 219, 280

Full Salvation 219, 248, 264

Genesse Valley 68-9

God,

Dependence upon, our 169

Fatherly 292

Glory of 208-12

Goodness manifested 46

Grace of 138, 153-5

Incarnation 76

Indwelling 226-7

Infinity 75

Love of 56, 223

Mercies of 278

Method of 60, 201, 265

Pleasing, well 292

Promise, Oath of 201-2

Purposes of 227-31

Seeking 277, 280-307

Slander against His character 27, 226

Tyranny, charges of 87

Will of 232

Gospel 86

Gospel of Gush, the 168

Government 178-81

Moral 144

Grace,

First and Second 294

Growth in 264-5

Growth, Christian 60, 75-81, 199, 201-2, 215, 264

Habits 222

Hazing 173, 176, 184

Healing, gift of 241

Hereditary diseases 15

Heresy 164

Higher Life 108, 180, 219, 281, 298

Higher light 52

Holiness, 266

Expectations of 194-239, 280-307

Gradual 264-5

Personal 62-4, 194-239, 253

Holy Ghost, renewing of the 47, 200

Holy Spirit 202-13, 220-5, 239-42, 280-307

Honouring the 298-9

Presence of the 240

Hopkinsianism 22-25, 82-4

Humbleness of mind, false 66

Humility, false kind of 79, 262-4

Hymn reading 98

Ignorance, two kinds of 261

Imitators 58

Impartiality 137

Imperfection 234-5

Imputation 14, 15, 139

Inability 141, 168

Independence of thought 186-7

Infallability in knowledge 261

Infidelity 133, 168

Influence of those around us 102-7, 132, 187

Initiation 173, 176

Inquiry seats 161, 216

Instruction, spiritual 51

Intolerance 126-8

Intermarriage of whites and blacks 122

Intoxicating drinks 263

Intuition, absolute divine 46

Jesting 38, 103-4

Joy 260

Justification 198, 218-22, 263, 266

Knowledge, forms of 56, 61, 166-7

Knox College of Illinois 137

Labour, manual 188

Lane Seminary 122-31, 134, 137, 160, 196

Law of Liberty 140-7

Legalism 106

Liberty (see Law of Liberty)

Literary Society 124

Letter that killeth, the 75-6

Life-principle for judging and action 57-8

London Times 100

Lord's Prayer 98, 232

Lusts which war in the members 233

Mahan,

Born of God, age 17 12, 37

Childhood 12

Critics 248-9

Daughters 123

Father's conversion 119

Left America for England in 1874 299

Mother, greatest women thinker 13

Teaching school, begins 37

Manifestation of God 43-6, 55, 66, 73-4, 200-13, 223

Mental preparation 98

Mental Science, Professor of 135

Method of God 60, 201, 265

Methodists 120, 132, 278

Millennium 209, 268

Ministration of death 109

Ministry, the 54

Ministry,

Preparation 94-100, 101-10, 272, 300, 302

Qualifications 216

Ministers 65, 123, 154, 211

Miracles, Age of 241, 243

Misrepresentation of positions 250-1

Mission preparation 51, 272, 300, 302

Missionaries 152, 271-2, 301

Missionary,

Boards 300

Lands, results of Baptism 299-306

Mormonism 252

Movements 9

Mystery 87-8, 144-6

Mystery of the ages 208

Nationality 150

Necessitarian teachings 59, 88, 141-8

Need of the hour 133

Needs met 278

Oberlin College, Early 120-1, 133-5, 160, 170, 179-85

Obligation, duty 15-7, 35-6, 139-43

Odium theolgicum 164, 252

Old Man, the 233

Old Testament saint 268

Once Saved Always Saved 7

Opium 263

Oppression 127-9

Original sin 139

Orphan, spiritual 8

Park Street Church 159

Party, following a 58-9

Pastor 112, 122-33

Pastoral care 117-8, 124

Peace with God 45

Peace of God 54

Pelagians 147

Penalty of sin 56

Pentecost 205-8, 241-3

Perfection 184, 215-6, 218-21, 239

Perfectionism 220, 252-3

Perfect Love 219, 280

Persecution 121-31

Pestilence 117-8

Poisons 263

Power from on high 49, 59, 201, 239-42, 279-307

How obtained, essential elements 297

Power of truth 107

Power, want of moral 66

Prayer,

For conversion, answers to 155-6

For holiness 231-2, 248-9, 277

Meetings 105

Preachers, kinds of 77

Preaching 111-3, 153

Predestination, absolute 18

Predetermination, absolutely all events 18

Presbyterian Church division 113, 162-7

Old-School and New-School 162-7

Presbyterian Confession of Faith 162

President, College 173-5

Prejudice 128, 167, 190

Pride 80, 165-6, 256, 262

Princeton Theological Seminary 105

Principles of Institutions 171

Prophets 203, 240

Progress in the Christian life 66

Promise of the Spirit, the 5, 171-2, 239-42, 281

How received 297

Pro-slavery 130

Providence of God 68, 115, 118, 134-6

Public Sentiment 65, 120-32, 136

Pulpit preparation 97-98

Pure heart 258-9

Quietude 292

Race-course 194

Reactionary responses 167

Reason, the 143-5

Rebellion, Sepoy 286

Reforms 131

Relgious impressions, early 28

Repentance 78, 86, 91, 196

Reprobate 43

Reprobation, Unconditional 82

Resolutions 158, 171-2, 199

Responsibility 87, 140

Revivals, 30, 42, 54-5, 78, 80, 90, 96, 104,

108, 112, 115, 118, 132-3, 137,

150-72, 276-277, 296, 298

Causes of Decline in 160-9

Revival methods 113, 161, 171-2

Rheumatism, attack of inflammatory 118

Rochester University 68

Romans chapter seven 66, 106, 234-8, 272, 275

Rules 177

Sabbath Schools 94, 105, 122

Sacred music 181, 184

Sacred Rhetoric, Professor of 108-9

Saint,

New Testament 275

Old Testament 268, 275

Saloon 194

Samaria 50, 242

Sanctification 105-7, 198-202, 217-39

By Works 200

Confession of 262-3

Entire 219-239, 248-64, 272, 278-9, 287, 299

Gradual 227-8, 264-5

Immediate 264, 301

Testifying of the experience of 262-3

Satan, method of 265

Scandal 128, 236

Scholarship 185-7

Scotland, holiest man of 74

Seances 133

Second Death, terrors of 111

Second Grace 294

Sectarianism 161

Self-discipline, self-cultivation 100

Self-righteousness, false 262

Seminary life 101-10, 166

Sermon 95-7

Silence, solemn 98

Sin:

Actual 20, 138, 233-4

Body of sin, 233

Destroyed 200

Confession of 257-8, 294

Conviction of 26, 142

Daily 194-5, 217

End of, gradual 227-8, 264-5

Full salvation from all 228-9, 252

Guilt, infinite 46, 193-4

Indwelling 233-4

Ignorance, sin of 262

Original, Calamity or Crime? 15, 139

Present 79

Posibility of 142, 252

Two forms: outward, indwelling 16

View of 194

Sinful nature 138, 142

Sinfulness, personal 67

Sinlessness 252-3

Sinners, salvation for the worst of 302

Sins of Ignorance 262

Slave 123, 135

Slavery 124, 180

Spirit, ministration of the 76

Spirit of God, illumination of the 78, 200

Spiritism 133

Spirituality 102-10

Society, Theological 92

Sonship 56

Sorrow of heart 260

Soul-care, sanctifying 65

Soul-winning, 94, 152, 270

Causing death 154-7

Student of Science, Theology 10

Study 76, 91, 102-9

Studying good men's life principles 58-9

Submission, arbitrary 128-9

Sun of Righteousness 9

Synod of Dort 146-7

Talking, foolish 103

Teach 101-10

Teachers, human 303

Temptations, 258-61

Must be put away properly 52

Test of Truth 59

Theater 194

Theology, Professor of 108-9, 122, 135

Tobacco 263

Tongues, gift of 241, 243

Trial, Ecclesiastical 162

Trinity, doctrine of the 109

Truth, 266

Absolute vision of 11

Truth in bible for moral purposes 63

Unitarianism 167-8

Universalism 167-8

Vine Street Congregational church 116-7

Voice cultivation 97-8

War of the Rebellion 137

Warfare 52

Watchfulness 260

Wellington, battle of Waterloo 64

Will, the 141-4

Witness of the Spirit, the 56

Winning souls 54-5

Women, first liberal education of 120

Word, reading the Sacred 54, 97-100, 149

Works 225

Worldly desires 52

Worldly life 53

Yale College 186

INDEX OF PEOPLE

Adam 47, 138

Aiken, Dr. 257

Alford's translation 121, 169, 226-7, 244, 254

Allen, Dr., of Alabama 123

Ambrose 234, 237

Annan, Robert 74

Anthony, Miss Susanna 32, 73

Arnold, G. 235

Athenasius 234

Augustine 147-8

Barnabas 234, 236-7

Barnes, Rev. Albert 164, 268

Basil 147

Beausobre 235

Beecher D.D., Rev. Lyman 25, 122-33, 166

Bellamy 13

Bengel 235

Blanchard, Rev. Jonathan 137

Boynton, D.D., Rev. C. B. 117

Brainerd, David 32, 73

Bramwell, William 73

Bretschneider 147

Bucer 235

Bullock, Rev. C. 203

Chalmers, Dr. 43

Calvin, John 147

Chase, Chief Justice 129

Christopher, Rev. A. W. 272

Chrysostom 147

Clarke 235

Clemance, D.D., Rev. C. 282

Clement of the 1st century 234, 236-7

Clement of Alexandria 148

Cole, Major 296

Coleridge 251

Conybeare 235

Crysostom 234, 237

Curler, Dr. 269, 286

Earlle, Dr. 296

Edwards, President Jonathan 13, 23, 30, 32, 59, 73-5, 138-9, 280

Edwards, Mrs. 32, 73-4, 280

Elijah 240

Elisha 204-5, 240

Emmons D.D., Rev. Nathaniel 13, 24, 25, 82, 84

Epiphanius 147

Episcopius 235

Erasmus 235

Eusebius 148

David, King 240

Dawes, Esq., Willaim 189

Didymus 148

Doddridge 235

D'Oyley 235

Duffield, Dr. 153

Faure of Doesburg, Netherlands, H. E. 291-3

Fénélon, Archbishop 237, 279

Finney, Charles Grandison (1792-75) 6, 120-21, 133-7, 150-65, 170-2,

220-1, 237, 247-50, 252, 280

Fishbourne, Admiral 281

Fitch of Yale, Professor 142

Flatt 235

Fletcher, John 73-5, 237, 248, 280

Fletcher, Mrs. 73-4

Franke 235

Frothergill of Darlington, Annie 284-5

Frow of Bombay, India, Rev. J. F. 300

Gabriel, the Angel 188

Gardiner, Conversion of Colonel 45-6

Garrison (infidel abolitionist) 159

Goodwin 235

Graham, Mrs. 33

Griffith of China, Rev. John 279, 302-3

Guyon, Madame 237, 279

Hamilton, Miss 287

Hammond, Mr. 296

Harrison, Evangelist 296

Hastings, Mr. Thomas 181

Hermas 234, 236-7

Herrmann 235

Holyoke, William (Lane Sem. Trustee) 126, 134

Hopkins D.D., Rev. Samual 13, 22, 23

Howson 235

Huet of Goes, Rev. P. 291-3

Ignatius 234

Irenaeus Bishop of Lyons 147

Isabella Graham, Mrs. 32

Jerome 147

Jesus Christ 187, 199

John, Rev. G. 303-6

Jude 236

Keep, Rev. John 134, 189

Knapp 147, 235

Lathrop, Professor 164

Law William 279

Le Clerc 235

Lenfant 235

Limborch 235

Little, Rev. 158

Ludlow, Mr. 129

Maclaine 147

Magdalene, Mary 263

Mahan, Asa (see subject index)

Cousin 68

Mother 13, 32, 38

Niece 17

Uncle 68

Mahan, Mrs. 124

Mant 235

Martyr, Justin 147, 234

Melindy, John (Lane Sem. Trustee) 127-9, 134-5

Meyer 235

Moody, Mr. 203, 278, 282-3, 297-9

Morgan, Professor John 134-5

Mosheim 146-7

Murdock 147

Nash, father 157, 159

Neander 147, 235

Nettleton 30, 35, 55

North, Mr. Brownlow 281

Noyes, the Free Lover 159

Olshausen 235

Origen 148

Osborne, Mrs. Sarah 32, 73

Paul, the apostle 188, 218, 238-42

Palmer, Mrs. Phoebe 73, 278

Parker, D.D., Rev. Joel, President

of Union Theological Seminary 93, 184

Patton, Dr., President of Howard University;

Editor of The Chicago Advance 121, 185

Pearson, D.D., Rev. A. G. 269

Peck of Cincinnati, Dr. 116

Pentecost, Dr. 269, 296

Perowne 238

Peter, apostle 236, 241-2, 260, 262

Philips, Hon. Wendell 137

Polycarp 234, 236-7

Porter, Dr. Prof. of Rhetoric 159

Raphael 235

Rankin, Rev. John 135

Reade, Esq., Charles 286

Reinhardt 235

Rogers, Mrs. Hester Ann 73

Rice of Virginia, Dr. 269, 271

Ryle, Bishop 235, 275

Saul of Tarsus 304

Schorner 235

Shipherd, Rev. J. J. 133-6

Siu-Kin-Kan 304-6

Smith, Hon. Garrit 188

Smitt, Rev. J. G. 292, 294

Smyth of Maidstone, Dr. 290

Stanton, Mr., of New York 123

Sterns (Dr.), President of Amherst College 88

Stevens of Oak Park Seminary, Mr. 299

Stevenson of Shao-hing 301

Storr 235

Streeter, Rev. S. W. 220

Stowe of Lane Seminary, Professor 122, 125-6

Strong of New Brunswick, Professor 104

Stuart 235

Talmage, Dr. 131

Talmage, Dr. of Brooklyn 296

Tappan. Esq. of New York, Arthor 129, 136

Taylor,

James Brainerd 237

J. H. 301-2

Jeremy 235

William, Rev. 300

Tenants 30, 32, 74, 280

Tenant, William 73-5

Tertullian 147

Theodoret 148

Tholuck, Professor 190-1, 235, 280

Throme of Kentucky, Mr. J. A., 123

Tung Tsing-Kwan B.A., Mr. 305-7

Turretin 235

Upham 237, 307

Van Cott, Mrs. 296

Vaughan 222

Walker, D.D., James Bar 157

Walker, Young Mr. 38, 54

Watkins of Oak Park Seminary, Mr. 299

Watson, Mr. Robinson 290

Wei of Kain Kan, Evangelist 302-4